Demon City: Atlanta 2049 (standard:science fiction, 10142 words)
Author: Alexander Williams	Added: Feb 21 2001	Views/Reads: 4544/4073	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Anime pilot; what if Demon City Shinjuku was NOT the end?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

City Bombing, the Waco burning, the Columbine shootings. And now -- 

PULL BACK SLOWLY 

... to reveal the city breaking into sections, each outlined in hellish
green light.  In the very center, the streets, buildings fall into a 
quickly spreading circular pit, filled with an even greater nexus of 
the hellfire.  It stops expanding, roughly four-blocks in diameter, and 
from the center ... 

NARRATOR (V.O.) -- now Hell was coming to claim its just place in the
world.  It was held and stopped in Tokyo. 

Now, now it would fester, and lurk, and claim a place for a time, until
it could complete its works. 

... from the center rises smoke and swarms which flood out toward the
Perimeter, riding wave after wave of green flame, spurting up from the 
crevices, illuminating the pall from below. 

People scream as some are stripped to the bone in seconds by demonic
insects. 

People fall, their skin liquidated and running in puddles as they get
too close to a column of flame. 

People die, swallowed up by the ground. 

FADE TO: 

EXT - CITY OF ATLANTA 2049 (FROM AIR) - SUNSET 

MAIN TITLE: Demon City: Atlanta 2049 

The sun casts bloody puddles of fading light on the wreckage of Atlanta.
 There is a disturbing resemblance to Tokyo of 1990 (as seen in Demon 
City Shinjuku) but on a larger scale. Much larger.  All of Atlanta is 
in ruins. 

The streets are shattered. 

As shadows lengthen, distorted forms skitter from shade to shade. 

Cars line the streets, abandoned in panic.  Several are overtuned and
lie with rotted tires thrown up like legs. 

A few bodies can be seen, half crushed, burned, or mangled. They are
picked clean, disassociated, fragmented. 

A pile of skulls sits outside a half-collapsed store; some of them
aren't very clean at all, very fresh.  An eyeball tumbles down from the 
topmost head.  Very quickly, a tentacle whips out of a corner, grasps 
it, and drags it away to disturbing slurping noises. 

NARRATOR (V.O.) The year is 2049.  Fourty-seven years have passed since
Atlanta fell into the grasp of the Well of Souls. 

The pit which swallowed four blocks in the very center of downtown
pulses with green hateful radiance.  From its craggy sides clamber up 
the occasional demon, seen only in sillhouette, malformed and twisted, 
diseased and ichorous. 

NARRATOR (V.O.) (continuing) The Perimeter, once a circular highway that
girded the city has become the outer edge of the fortress, protector of 
demons, defender of the damned. 

PULL BACK SLOWLY TO ZOOM ON THE PERIMETER (NORTH) 

The twelve-lane highway has crumbled away, leaving an enormous abyss
from which leaps a shimmering wall of green flames, obviously 
unnatural. 

A few thin spans of concrete, no wider than a VW Bug, cross the flames. 
A couple of them seem reinforced, some by strange techno-organic 
strands, others by steel beams bent by raw strength.  All of the 
bridges are blocked on the outside by huge concrete walls, fallen-down 
roadblocks, ramshackle military equipment. 

A few military officers can be seen moving around outside squat concrete
bunkers which appear to be pre-fab.  The bunkers've been there a while. 


NARRATOR (V.O.) Humanity watched and wated at the gated for an incursion
that never came.  In the mean time, their technology was pressed, 
pushed, Rama's legacy bringing the power of Man to rival that of the 
demons ... 

... or so it was hoped. 

INT - A DARK BUNKER 

In the darkness, one optic suddenly glows a hellish red. 

FADE TO: 

EXT - GEORGIA RESEARCH CENTER - ESTABLISHING 

The Georgia Research Center used to be the University of Georgia ... and
it shows.  Tall, academic buildings cluster around a quadrangle.  
Students bustle here and there between them, sometimes riding on short 
hoverboards or towing some equipment behind them on larger versions. 

It nears dusk. 

INT - GRC CONTROL ROOM - DAY 

A vast hollow like an ampitheatre.  Dark.  Screens light the walls,
depicting strange signals, shots of Atlanta from orbiting satelites and 
automated watchdogs outside the bridges.  Pulsing cascades of aura 
flicker on still others. 

There's no air of urgency.  A few techs eat a short lunch at their
consoles. 

Two man stand in a glass-walled overlook in the back, indistinct through
the reflection of screens. 

INT - GRC OBSERVATION ROOM 

The older man (54) has a certain air of command about him and a weary
acceptance; his clothes are distinctly military.  The younger (30) has 
on a white labcoat with DR. BRIDGES tagged neatly on the breast over a 
pocket full of odd equipment. 

DR. BRIDGES ... and that's where we stand after twenty years of study,
not one bit closer to truly understanding the phenomena's root than we 
used to be. 

General Burns, this is no way to run a railroad. 

GENERAL BURNS shifts, tapping at a small console along the front of the
observation room; a holo-projection of Atlanta springs up between them, 
each of the bridges marked in pulsing red over venomous green.  A few 
locations within the Perimeter have identifying icons. 

GENERAL BURNS Its not as if I can argue.  How many military recon
missions have we tried to send into the city? 

Over the holo is projected the time/date-stamped images of various
military groups crossing a bridge. 

EXT - POV MILITARY HEADCAM - DAY 

SUPER: 2024/08/24 21:12:04.06 

Grainy, jerky motion through a head-mounted video-rig.  From time to
time bursts of static corsucate across the image. 

Moving between collapsed buildings, out on the rim of the city.  Slow,
cautious.  Several TROOPERS up ahead, crouching, guns ready, camo'd 
faces. 

TEAM LEADER (28) gestures, two off left, two right, two follow him.  We
follow. 

TEAM LEADER (radio; subvocalized) Something's moving up ahead.  Fire
team follow.  Wing support, left right. 

A glimmer of light ahead, something red and scaborous, outlining the
edge of a wall and a street-corner.  There's a low murmur of voices. 

CAMERAMAN (O.S.) (subvocalized) Light ahead, red.  Shadows suggest
multiple targets.  I'm hearing -- (radio; subvocalized) Can anyone make 
that out? 

Moving up toward the corner behind Team Leader.  Sound is louder. 

Team Leader and two support turn corner and register shock, horror. 
Jerk-ready rifles and begin opening fire.  Shadows go leaping 
everywhere! 

Round corner; red light flares, blinding.  Barely see shaped, inhuman,
contorted, leaping around, some being cut in half by the torrent of 
bullets coming from the primary fireteam. 

Left wing rounds corner on opposite side and lays down crossfire. 

TEAM LEADER (radio) Fire on the center; bogies are taking serious
losses. 

Third group rounds their corner and open fire. 

Red light in center blinks out. 

BLACK. 

TROOPER #1 (radio) Oh my god!  Its got me, its got -- 

TROOPER #2 (radio) Shit!  They're all over! 

Looking wldly left and right.  Rifles stitching light through the dark
in uncontrolled fire.  Sounds of inhuman screeching. 

SCREAMS on the RADIO. 

Turning.  Running. 

CAMERAMAN Oh shit.  Oh shit.  Oh shit. 

Sounds of running behind. 

Something dead-white and huge leaps across the street ahead. Its only a
flicker.  A trooper screams from the alley. 

TEAM LEADER (O.S.) (radio; sounds of gunfire) Get back here, Johnson! 
Johnson! 

Street bounces, twists, skidding.  Leaping behind an overtuned ice-cream
truck.  Hiding. 

The radio's filled with screams and curses.  The troopers are getting
cut to shreds. 

TROOPER #3 (O.S.) (radio) Willis' been hit!  His head's gone!  Shit,
they fucking took his head! 

TROOPER #4 (O.S.) (radio) They're all over!  Goddamnit, its got my leg. 
Get off, get off, GEDDIT OFF IT HURTS! 

TROOPER #5 (O.S.) (radio) Goddamnit, get some fire on that car! 

TROOPER #6 (O.S.) (radio; quietly) That ain't no ca -- 

TROOPER #7 (O.S.) (radio) EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT SHIT EAT ... 

Crouching lower.  THINGS go leaping by.  Can't make them out, tentacles
and teeth and too many limbs. 

TEAM LEADER (O.S.) (radio) ARRRRRGHHHH! 

CAMERAMAN I'm so out of here. 

Jumping up, turning, running head on into something as big as a bus, a
thung with eyes in the wrong places and a face full of mouths. 

Looking up. 

BLACK. 

INT - GRC OBSERVATION ROOM 

DR. BRIDGES We have a few images that suggest some ... less than natural
occurances in the Exclusion Zone. 

GENERAL BURNS Hardly surprising.  What was your first hint, the thirty
metre high walls of green flame or was it the immense localized 
earthquake?  Or maybe the mutated monsters that come out from time to 
time. 

Dr. Bridges blinks. 

DR. BRIDGES No need for hostility, General. We just -- 

GENERAL BURNS -- just have wasted twenty years frittering away any
advantage we might have had in the beginning! 

General Burns rounds on the smaller man. 

WOMAN'S VOICE Gentleman, of all the demons you two could be wrestling
with, does it have to be yours? 

From behind them drifts a tall, elegant woman (38), dressed in a smart
corporate-style suit of red.  From sensible flats to the cut of her 
hair, she exudes control. 

DR. BRIDGES (stammering) Director Kinkaid ... !  I, that is, we -- 

GENERAL BURNS -- didn't hear you come in, but you were, as ever,
foremost in our minds. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID barely gratifies this with a slight arch of the brow. 

GENERAL BURNS (continuing; deflated) Or maybe not. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID I don't think I need to tell either of you that
professionalism is absolutely paramount in the GRC.  Do I?  Or need I 
remind you of the last debacle you two managed to create by not being 
able to get along like good little boys? 

General Burns wilts under Director Kinkaid's gaze.  Dr. Bridges
bristles. 

DR. BRIDGES I will not stand here and let my work be impuned by this ...
this ... 

DIRECTOR KINKAID Arrogant monkey? 

GENERAL BURNS Iron-plated asshole? 

DIRECTOR KINKAID Petty dictator? 

GENERAL BURNS Useless fist-making appendage? 

Dr. Bridges blinks a few times, then laughs. 

DR. BRIDGES Alright, alright already. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID Indeed.  We're adults, we don't need to get into deep
apologies here, do we? 

Dr. Bridges sketches a short curtsey to General Burns. General Burns
returns a formal bow. 

DR. BRIDGES I'm dreadfully sorry, you sodden monkey. 

GENERAL BURNS That's quite alright, you pompous computational cerebrum. 

Director Kinkaid just shakes her head. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID (muttering) Boys. (aloud) So, have there been any
recent developments worth mentioning that you two haven't fought over? 

DR. BRIDGES Nothing noteworthy for several months.  If this was a
disease, I might say it was in permenant remission. 

GENERAL BURNS We've had a few thrill-seeker breakthroughs here and
there; the barricades aren't set up to keep people out but to keep 
those things in.  Some of the folks don't get far before they turn 
around and haul-ass out of there. Some just don't come back. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID Who were the last -- "thrill- seekers" you called them?
Very well then, thrill-seekers -- that managed to come out? 

General Burns brings up a montage of images in the holo- projector. 

GENERAL BURNS Bike gang; caught some of my boys sleeping and snuck
through the barrier. 

A TECHNICIAN runs up to the Observation Room and motions Dr. Bridges to
the side.  He breaks away. 

GENERAL BURNS (continuing) Six of them managed to breech the Perimeter. 
Twenty-four hours later, two came limping back from the Zone.  They 
were debriefed and released. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID Released? 

GENERAL BURNS Entering a mine field is no longer a criminal offense,
Director. This is an enlightened age. 

In any case, I had Dr. Bridges' boys give them a good talking to, sucked
their brains dry, and turned them loose.  They seemed pretty unlikely 
to go back to gang- banging. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID Why? 

GENERAL BURNS Seemed too happy to be alive. 

Dr. Bridges darts back over to the Director and the General, punching
wildly at various control surfaces on the console. Screens flicker and 
shift. 

GENERAL BURNS (continuing) What in the blazes ... ? 

DIRECTOR KINKAID Is there a problem, Dr. Bridges? 

Dr. Bridges looks up, grimaces, straightens, and thrusts a pointing
finger toward the central screen display. 

Below, technicians scramble to consoles, drag on headsets, begin
chattering unheard through the thick glass. 

DR. BRIDGES I think we are about to experience an extreme manifestation
of spacial reconfiguration. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID What? 

General Burns' eyes widen. 

GENERAL BURNS The bridges.  They're shifting. And there's more of them. 

EXT - PERIMETER BRIDGEHEAD 

The screen of flames wobbles manically as if something living were
walking through them far below.  The reinforced bridge that crosses the 
chasm buckles, crumbles, falls and is devouered by the heat. 

Troopers stand and lie at the ready, looking more shocked than scared. 

ELSEWHERE 

... a sheet of green is parted, concrete, asphault, stone, and resin
extruded like an unholy tongue through the curtain. 

INT - GRC OBSERVATION ROOM 

DIRECTOR KINKAID Gentlemen, I think its going to be a lot harder to keep
people out, now. 

EXT - NEW BRIDGE - NIGHT 

Across the newly created bridge slithers and shambles a collection of
half-rotted corpses, half-shattered skeletons, and other assorted 
undead organ collections. 

ZOMBIES! 

As a body, the zombies shamble off away from the Perimeter wall -- 

-- only to begin piling up at the bottom of a high chain link fence. 

INTERCUT: A red light blinks on a panel. 

The zombies clutch and pull at the fence, but they can't climb it.  Too
clumsy.  Too slow.  They rattle the fence. 

More zombies pour across the bridge. 

Residential houses beyond the fence.  A car with a family inside drives
by in the dark, headlights washing the fence a moment then passing on. 

TECHNICIAN (V.O.) Doctor, we've got a light in the northern sector. 

DR. BRIDGES (V.O.)            GENERAL BURNS (V.O.) Where?               
       What is it? 

A camera on top of a conrete pillar nearby lights up and begins to pan. 

TECHNICIAN (V.O.) Buford Highway junction.  But that fell in years ago! 

DR. BRIDGES (V.O.) Get me video. 

GENERAL BURNS (V.O.) (on phone) Get me Captain Machen.  NOW! 

Zombies continue to pull at the fence. 

The fence begins to sag.  Several rivets at the top POP. 

More zombies come across the bridge through the wall of fire; there must
be a hundred of them now.  They push at the fence, repeatedly, then 
pull. 

The zombies' eyes are rolled back, blank. 

On the other side of the fence, a green military truck roars from a
side-street and swings around.  Two half-tracks are not far behind. 

The fence falls forward. 

NATIONAL GUARDSMEN begin pouring from the vehicles.  All of them stop
short when they see the wave of the dead gathering itself to pour 
forward. 

GUARDSMAN #1 (softly) Holy shit. 

From behind the forming wall of Guardsmen comes a tall, willowy man with
long, white hair.  His eyes are a lustreless pink in the sodium arc 
lights.  The patch on his shirt reads: MACHEN (29). 

MACHEN (totally calm) Hold your position, people. 

The zombies don't seem to fully have realized the fence is down, yet.  A
few of them sit, shaking the fallen chain-link. 

A few zombies in the front notice the smell of fresh meat. 

Soon, more do. 

MACHEN (continuing) Steady.  Guns ready. 

The Guardsmen raise their guns as one, despite a few shaking. 

GUARDSMAN #1 Captain, what are you waiting for?! 

Zombies begin shuffling toward the Guardsmen 

MACHEN Hold on, Lieutennant ...  One more moment. 

The zombies go from a shuffle to a run. 

GUARDSMAN #2 What the hell are these things!? 

MACHEN Gentlemen -- you may fire. 

A thundering wave of gunfire begins echoing up and down the street as
the squad of Guardsmen begin unloading their M-16's into the oncoming 
wave of zombies.  Lights go on in houses up and down the block.  Dogs 
bark. 

Zombies howl in hunger and hatred.  Their flesh puckers under the
assault, bullets hitting home, but none flinch. 

MACHEN (continuing) Begin backing away, people.  Keep fire on the center
of the line. 

Machen begins withdrawing behind one of the half-tracks. 

The zombies are coming at a dead run now.  Occasionally a bullet takes
out a leg, but the mass of dead push right on over their fallen 
comrade. 

One zombie catches a bullet in the eye.  His head blossoms, spraying
gore on all round.  Crumples.  Fallen. 

GUARDSMAN #3 I did it, I did it, I took one! 

The Guardsmen begin walking backwards slowly, but not as fast as the
zomies are coming. 

MACHEN Percy has it; aim for the heads, boys.  Take out their heads! 

A bead of sweat rolls down Machen's cheek. 

Fire is getting panicked, the zombies are almost within arm's reach, and
there's hundreds of them.  Some fall, but its hard to take out a moving 
zombie head with a gun on full-auto. 

Two Guardsmen on the left run out of ammo simultaneously. 

They can't find any clips on their belts. 

The zombies leap. 

MACHEN (continuing) No! 

The two Guardsmen go down under several zombies each.  They scream,
gurging, cut off with snapping bone and ripping noises. 

A zombie looks up, one eyeball dangling from its nerve in his mouth like
spaghetti. 

The Guardsmen rout.  Some run screaming this way, some that. Some lay
down scattered fire in their retreat that is utterly ineffective. 

Machen runs after his men. 

MACHEN (continuing) Come back!  We just need to concentrate fire on -- 

-- and stops dead. 

A BOY stands there, no older than 16 or 17.  His short- cropped black
hair appears to stand straight out from his head, beneath which he 
wears a blindingly white robe, with a surplice bearing a strange yellow 
symbol.  Across his back hangs a white ash bo staff longer than he is 
tall. 

BOY I am White Light, that which burns away darkness.  I am
righteousness.  Foul creatures of evil, you will fall back from this 
place and be gone! 

Machen's eyes widen. 

In the boy's hand in a bright-burning piece of paper which is not being
consumed; on its surface are a series of ideograms. 

WHITE LIGHT I would suggest you move, sir. 

Faster than we can follow, White Light's arm shoots out, grabs Machen
and pull him back, while with the other he flings the ofuda straight 
into the midst of the nearest zombies! 

WHITE LIGHT (continuing) OFUUUUUDAAAAAA BUUUURN! 

A cluster of zombies go up in white flames!  The rest of the zombies
flinch and turn away, keening in some terrible way all the way to the 
bone. 

WHITE LIGHT (continuing) My righteousness cannot be challenged! 

White Light leaps up and backwards to land on top of the truck.  He
pauses a moment. 

The zombies seem to be regathering their impetous. 

Machen seems to be dumbfounded.  Guardsmen look out from whatever
bolt-holes they've found to see what's going on. 

White Light holds an ofuda-strip overhead which bursts into brilliant
white flame, illuminating the entire area.  Where the light hits the 
closest zombies they begin to smoulder, and they scream in pain! 

WHITE LIGHT (continuing) Back to the dark with you, demon- toys!  This
world is not for you. 

OFUUUUDAAAAAAAAA STRIKE! 

With a quick down-whip of the wrist, White Light throws a dozen or more
ofuda at the same time!  Zombies begin burning like pillars of white 
flame. 

Machen stares of as if worshiping, then shakes his head. 

MACHEN Men, let's get some covering fire in here!  Aim for the heads! 

Guardsmen begin cautiously advancing, no longer firing wildly but
picking their shots, going for heads.  Zombies start falling like 
raindrops. 

Each of the Guardsmen and Machen seems to be outlined in a flickering
echo of the nimbus that surrounds White Light. 

Slowly, step by step, the zombies falter and fall back.  The Guardsmen
advance, equally as slowly.  Behind them stands White Light, still atop 
the truck, still throwing balls of light into the gathered zombies and 
incinerating five, ten at a time. 

Zombies begin falling into the flames of the Perimeter. 

They turn to ash before they even start falling. 

MACHEN (continuing) They're almost done, men.  Keep pushing. 

GUARDSMAN #1 How're we going to keep them from coming back across,
Captain? 

WHITE LIGHT I will see to that. 

As the last zombie on this side of the bridge is felled -- 

WHITE LIGHT (continuing) RIGHTEOUS BURNING PRAYER! 

A wave of white flame spreads from White Light's eyes and washes across
the ground, seemingly through the Guardsmen and converges on the fabric 
of the bridge. 

It begins burning with blinding intensity.  Guardsmen fall back,
covering their eyes, their glow faded. 

Zombies on the bridge writhe then are blown away like wisps of smoke. 

The bridge buckles, flips, then seems to rise into the sky, ash on a
burning wind. 

MACHEN (quietly) Damn. 

GENERAL BURNS (V.O.) You saw that? 

DR. BRIDGES (V.O.) I did.  I don't know how he did it, but I saw it.
(softly) Damn, the meters are off the scale.  Incredible display. 

White Light stands atop the truck, surplice blowing in the remnants of a
spring night's breeze.  His eyes are closed. 

INT - APARTMENT HALLWAY - DAY 

The hallways bears the tell-tale ribbing of bulk nanotech construction. 
There's a vague sense of organic curves in the 
corners-that-aren't-quite-corners.  Still, its clear this building has 
been ill-used over the long-term.  Flakes, almost like shed skin, 
collect in corners, stirred by a random breeze.  Doors open into the 
hallway like extruded tumors. 

Dr. Bridges and a FEMALE TECHNICIAN (22, female) stand in the hallway. 
A heavy metallic case sits beside them.  FEMALE Technician presses the 
buzzer. 

VRAI (O.S.) (filtered) Yeah? 

DR. BRIDGES Izuki, this is Doctor Bridges.  I got your message.  I've
brought someone with me to ... help with the equipment. 

The door irises open, and standing within is IZUKI VRAI (25), an older,
tired version of the White Light.  His hair is short-cropped, just as 
White Light's, but he wears a tight- fitting black turtleneck over his 
lanky frame and black jeans over rather funtional-looking tabi shoes. 

Dr. Bridges looks surprised. 

VRAI I wasn't sure whether you'd be coming or not.  I have just finished
baking some cookies. 

DR. BRIDGES After the little display you put on -- 

VRAI It wasn't the first one.  There've been Senshi and Knights as long
as there's been people.  Its just that's the first time you've -- 

Vrai blinks as he realizes they're standing in the hall, still. 

VRAI (continuing) Look, come in ... this is going to be a bit of a
story. 

DR. BRIDGES Absolutely.  Quite glad to, Mister Vrai -- 

VRAI Vrai's the first name, Doctor. I'm named in the Asian style. 

DR. BRIDGES (flustered slightly) Oh, yes.  Well then, Vrai, may we? 

Vrai steps back out of the doorway.  Certainly. 

Dr. Bridges and the FEMALE Technician pick up the long case and carry it
into the apartment. 

INT - IZUKI VRAI'S APARTMENT 

Single-room apartment.  "Spartan" just begins to describe the room.  The
floor is covered with woven mats, the tables are of the Japanese 
kneeling-style.  There are a few cryptic poems in caligraphic brush on 
the walls.  A window opens to an eastern view. 

DR. BRIDGES Nice place.  Roomy.  Few distractions. 

VRAI I didn't invite you here for home decoration tips. 

DR. BRIDGES No, seriously, I like it.  I even have that one on my wall
in the office. (reciting) "Summer skies pass / for good and evil alike 
/ clouds weeping." 

Its good. 

Vrai looks down as he moves aside to make room for the case being
brought in. 

VRAI I did that one myself. 

Dr. Bridges and Female Technician take a seat on one of the mats.  Vrai
bustles into the kitchen and returns with a tea set as Dr. Bridges and 
the technician trade glances. 

FEMALE TECHNICIAN Should I start setting up the equipment? 

VRAI Feel free.  The Doctor and I will be having tea first. 

Female Technician nods and goes to the case, opening it to reveal a
plethora of sensing equipment. 

DR. BRIDGES You make a fine host. 

VRAI Thank you.  I was not sure you were coming. 

DR. BRIDGES After I what you did before the National Guard, how could I
resist an anonymous email from "White Light?" 

Vrai pauses to sip tea. 

VRAI I depended on your curiosity. 

DR. BRIDGES (pause) You have excellent instincts. 

VRAI Quite honestly, Doctor, you have no idea. 

Female Technician finishes setting up what appears to be an array of
small radar dishes, lidar scanners, and things which are less 
immediately understandable.  Two consoles that look like highly 
modified laptops sit outside the sensor web connected by thin 
fibre-optic cables. 

FEMALE TECHNICIAN Doctor, Mister Izuki, I think we're ready. 

VRAI So ka. 

DR. BRIDGES If you would sit in the center of the ring, Vrai?  We'll
begin the tests. 

VRAI As you wish. 

As Vrai sits in the middle of the sensor web, lights climb up the rig. 
Both laptops begin emitting pencil-thin laser relays to each pillar. 

DR. BRIDGES You were telling me about these "Senshi" and "Knights" in
the hall? 

VRAI Hai.  The Senshi are girls, the Knights, boys.  I do not know why
it is that way.  It always has been.  Before the Demon City swallowed 
Atlanta and before Levi Rah, there were certain people who were ... 
touched by the Light, I think of it as. 

Dr. Bridges nods, adjusting the controls of the laptop before him. 
Beams of energy scintillate over Vrai's figure and he closes his eyes. 

DR. BRIDGES I see.  Go on, Vrai.  We are recording. 

VRAI So ka.  Before the coming of the City of Demons, the Senshi were
much fewer in number.  Hardly ever more than a handfull in a country. I 
would say fewer than a hundred world-wide. 

Female Technician punches in a slow sequence on her panel. 

FEMALE TECHNICIAN I have gamma set, Doctor.  Alpha through Theta are
cycling. 

DR. BRIDGES Excellent. (pause) These readings are off the scale. 

VRAI The coming of Levi Rah changed many things.  Oh, there were Demon
Lords before, servitors, even breakthroughs from other universes 
composed of negative energy.  The Senshi and Knights have defended 
mankind from such evils. 

Now, greater evil is matched by the greater presence of those who would
fight it.  But ... 

DR. BRIDGES But? 

VRAI ... but not as many as I would expect. 

Female Technician looks up quickly. 

FEMALE TECHNICIAN What do you mean? 

VRAI Aside from myself, there are two Knights in Atlanta.  There are
fewer than twenty Senshi, at best. In 1999, in Tokyo, there were 
seventy or more Senshi and Knights together.  Allowing for the far 
greater span of evil here, there should be two-hundred or more. 

Dr. Bridges strokes a reading on the display. 

DR. BRIDGES Can you tell us the names of any of the present Senshi or
Knights in Atlanta?  We might need to -- 

VRAI No!  Only myself. 

I will tell the others about your ... offer.  But they must come of
their own free will.  I cannot betray their trusts. 

Dr. Bridges looks at Vrai for a long time.  The machines pulse and hum. 

DR. BRIDGES I think we are ready for your -- 

VRAI Transformation. 

Vrai pulls a short ash stick from his pocket; it resembles nothing so
much as a miniature bo staff with metal-shod ends. 

VRAI (continuing) My henshin, Doctor.  A key, of sorts. 

DR. BRIDGES What door does it open? 

VRAI Watch. 

Vrai stretches his hand directly out before him, the henshin emerging
from either side of his closed fist.  His eyes drift shut. 

The fist clenches. 

The henshin pulses with a single stroke of bright white light! 

VRAI (continuing) HOLY BURNING RIGHTEOUSNESS! 

The short stick lengthens, thickens, until it is a full length bo staff,
burning with white flames. 

The monitoring instruments are going crazy.  Dr. Bridges and the Female
Technician are going just as wild, adjusting controls, changing lenses, 
getting in each others' way. 

One of the monitoring columns begins sparking. 

Vrai brings the bostaff up and around in a series of sudden slashes,
each leaving a scalding line of flame ripping the air.  He seems to 
leap upwards only to hang in midair in the apartment, legs 
lotus-position, hands clasped around the bo. Behind him spins a 
mandally of energies. 

His form seems burned away to reveal the slighter, younger man beneath. 

His eyes open.  They are filled with white firelight. 

WHITE LIGHT I am White Light, Agent of Righteousness, the Living Right
Hand!  Those who would do harm, cower before me. 

I will destroy you! 

INT - APARTMENT HALLWAY 

Dr. Bridges and THE Female Technician hurry out into the hallway, case
full of equipment thumping.  A cord drags in their wake. 

Vrai leans against the door-frame. 

DR. BRIDGES Well, Mr. Izuki, you certainly demonstrated what you can do!


FEMALE TECHNICIAN Absolutely! 

DR. BRIDGES We'll need to get these readings back to my lab at the GRC
right away. 

FEMALE TECHNICIAN Oh yes! 

VRAI Doctor, are you sure you don't want more tea? 

DR. BRIDGES Oh, no, no, quite fine!  My interior biochemical landscape
is quite rearranged enough, thank you! 

Dr. Bridges and the Female Technician skitter down the hallway,
equipment bump-bump-bumping. 

Before the elevator door closes, the Female Technician smiles and gives
Vrai a wave. 

Vrai waves back. 

VRAI They will never get it. 

GIRL'S VOICE Get what? 

Vrai turns to see a slender young red-headed girl of about 14 sitting
behind him, cross-legged on the floor.  She has a Japanese school 
uniform on in navy and white and a backpack, over the lip of which 
peers a pink lizard. 

VRAI Ah, so its you, Alison-chan.  You have Cryo with you?  You didn't
bring him to school again, did you? 

CRYO She most certainly did!  I was horrified, all those young hands
rubbing my body. (slyly) You would have loved it, Vrai. 

ALISON Cryo! 

Vrai raises a hand. 

VRAI Oh, let the lizard talk.  There aren't many men my age who hang
about with girls your age. 

I made some cookies, earlier.  You want some? 

ALISON Sure.  Then we have to talk about this zombie thing.  I hate
zombies. 

CRYO (sotto voce) Zombies.  Why did it have to be zombies? 

Vrai shakes his head ruefully. 

VRAI Get in here, you two.  We have a war to plan.  I just hope there's
a chance we'll win. 

Oh, and I need to tell you about the people at the Georgia Research
Center. 

ALISON Senshi Carnalite, at your service, sir! 

Vrai laughs. 

EXT - TESTING FIELD - BANDSTAND - DAWN 

The North Georgia Testing Field is an immense, empty field, the
short-cropped grass blowing in a morning breeze.  The line of a 
chain-link hurricane fence can be seen in the distance. 

An immense black truck sits to the side, two 18-wheeler trailers behind
a massive engine.  A heavy grey tarp covers the open rear.  Technicians 
duck in and out of the space beneath. 

Across from the trailers sit a bandstand of bleachers around a small
stage.  The seats are only about a quarter full, people sitting in 
bunched knots.  General Burns and Director Kinkaid sit above Dr. 
Bridges and a cluster of GRC Techs.  To one side of the stage is an 
enormous projection screen. 

Captain Machen walks out onto the stage.  He straightens his uniform
jacket. 

MACHEN (amplified) Ladies and gentlemen, I'm pleased to stand before you
today to bring you and we into a new era.  Today, I will introduce you 
to a quantum leap of technology which might turn the tide of battle in 
our struggle not only against mundane enemies, but these new threats 
which face us daily. 

Machen gestures to the Techs at the truck.  The Techs begin pulling down
the tarp. 

MACHEN (continuing; amplified) Today, I will show you the next evolution
in infantry support. (pause) I give you, the L-C-S-E "Lacey!" 

The Techs step back.  The tarp falls.  The Lacey, 3 metres tall, built
like a mechanical gorilla, head like a Sanurai helmet, one arm sporting 
a massive rotating autocannon, the other a wickedly curved blade. 

Its one optic lights red. 

MACHEN (continuing; amplified) The Lacey will now demonstrate its
operational envelope against a set of foes.  Please, enjoy the buffet 
while the Lacey moves into position. 

The crowd in the stands disperses down the lanes to the buffet spread in
front of the stage. 

General Burns and Machen meet at the buffet table. 

GENERAL BURNS I see your project has come to some sort of completion,
Captain. 

MACHEN Its been a pleasure to bring the Guard into a favourable
relationship with the "official" military, Burns. 

Machen waves a hand dismissively. 

MACHEN (continuing) Oh, I know, the Big Boys always considered the
National Guard to be pretty boys and pansies, Burns. 

GENERAL BURNS You must admit, Machen, two weekends a month is pretty
spare soldiering. 

MACHEN Perhaps.  Looks like you gentlemen should be more appreciative of
the Guard since that ... how did you put it?  "... small problem of 
insurrection in the Mid-East which required intervention in order to 
disengage usurpation." 

GENERAL BURNS That was the official line. 

MACHEN When the official line turned into local powers using nuclear
weapons on short-range targets, and our own men began glowing in the 
dark -- 

GENERAL BURNS (glowering) Machen, have I ever mentioned how much I
despise you? 

Machen smiles impishly. 

MACHEN Once or twice. 

Excuse me, I have a demonstration to command.  Please, have more bris. 

General Burns stares after Machen.  Machen ascends the stage as he
straightens his jacket, checks his hair. 

GENERAL BURNS (sotto voce) Poncy little faggot. 

In the distance, the Lacey has taken position at the edge of a makeshift
town. 

MACHEN (amplified) We have placed the Lacey at the edge of a mock-up
urban pacification area so that you can see her in action as she will 
be deployed.  There are a number of threat targets in the simulator and 
a few non-combatants. 

The screen beside the stage flickers into life, filled with a
much-expanded view of the Lacey. 

MACHEN (continuing; amplified) Let's see how she operates. 

EXT - TESTING FIELD - URBAN SIMULATOR AREA 

The Lacey moves forward into the town, head scanning left and right
mechnically.  The steps are solid, slow, just a little plodding.  One 
hand raises the autocannon to 'fire from hip' position. 

Nothing around the first building. 

Nothing around the second. 

POV LACEY PILOT 

The display lights like a Christmas tree.  There are no controls
visible, just an enormous HUD with icons and lines scattered across it. 
 The buildings show with little wire- frame extrapolations of their 
shape spinning attached by solid green lines to the actual walls. 

Behind one of the far buildings is lurking an ominous red glow. 

LACEY PILOT Zoom and enhance, my target. 

A crosshair flicks across the HUD.  Settles at one corner of the blur
and sweeps to the other.  The blur is boxed, spun, enhanced and a 
wireframe tank grows from its side. 

LACEY COMPUTER (O.S.) (filtered) Target confirmed.  T-72L. 

A host of tactical data scrolls beside the tank.  Arcs of fire, weapons,
everything is highlighted in flickers on the wireframe. 

LACEY PILOT I'm almost insulted. 

Three more red blobs light up further down the way.  Two are smaller
than the tank currently detected.  The larger one is quickly tagged as 
another T72-L. 

LACEY COMPUTER (O.S.) (filtered) Three targets in range of sensors. Two
total T-72L.  Two cloaked. 

LACEY PILOT Maybe I'm not insulted after all. Let's go, girl. 

RETURN TO SCENE 

The Lacey seems to hesitate at the edge of one of the crossways between
buildings.  It moves to the side of the building, suddenly fluid, 
almost human in motion. 

MACHEN (O.S.) (amplified) Looks like the Lacey has scented the hounds. 

The tank rumbles around the corner of the building as the Lacey shifts
around the opposite side.  As the tank turns up the central street, the 
Lacey moves around the side, unseen. 

As the first T-72L rumbles toward the front of the town, the second
pulls into the central way behind it, turret pointed backwards.  The 
Lacey remains concealed behind one of the buildings. 

Crackling small-arms fire scatters off the Lacey's armour. It turns to
see a three-man INFANTRY SQUAD in cloak-suits firing away with heavy 
rifles. 

LACEY PILOT (O.S.) (filtered) Ah, time to clean up the little messes. 

The autocannon on the Lacey's arm begins spinning up with an electric
squeal. 

The infantry scatter. 

Three bursts of autofire streak out of the Lacey's cannon and expertly
pegs each of the infantry in the back.  Obliogingly, they fall down and 
lay still, apparently otherwise unharmed. 

The Lacey zips around the corner ... just as a tank rounds into the
street. 

The other infantry squad sits at the end of a dead-end cross- street,
crouched behind garbage containers and boxes. 

One of the two tanks rumbles by in front on the infantry. They tense a
moment. 

Behind them, the wall buckles and breaks, thin pasteboard and light
brick. 

The Lacey towers amidst the rubble, arm outstretched. 

LACEY PILOT (O.S.) (continuing; filtered) OK, so I cheated.  Tag, boys. 

Three blasts.  Three infantry down. 

The Lacey stands there.  Infantry lie about its feet. 

One of the tanks is rumbling its way back. 

The front of a tread crosses the street. 

The turret. 

It begins turning a machine-gun mount toward the Lacey. 

LACEY PILOT (O.S.) (continuing; filtered) Not today. 

The heavy missile on the Lacey's shoulder ignites.  Like a single bolt,
the missle smears itself over the tank turret which begins to smoke, a 
red flasher going off on top. 

MACHEN (O.S.) (amplified) Looks like Lacey has only one target left. 

POV LACEY PILOT 

The wireframe T-72L flashes with red bursts.  The outlines of the downed
infantry squad flicker in time with it. 

LACEY COMPUTER (V.O.) (filtered) Tank disabled due to virtual damage. 
Infantry disabled. Missile ordnance exhausted. 

LACEY PILOT (muttering) Yeah yeah, I know.  Bite me. 

Blur of a quick turn and dart to different cover. 

RETURN TO SCENE 

The final tank drives up and down the streets of the mock- town,
quartering the area. 

It drives by the side-street where the infantry are still lying. 

Continues by. 

The Lacey steps out behind it. 

LACEY PILOT (O.S.) (filtered) Look, its Ivan, and his big ol' butt! 

The Lacey leaps up onto the back of the tank, physically rips the top
hatch off the turret as it tries to spin to track, and points the 
autocannon inside. 

LACEY PILOT (amplified) Bang bang, boys. 

The turret light goes on as the tank stops moving and the crew sticks
their heads out, hands in the air. 

EXT - TESTING FIELD - BANDSTAND - LATER 

Dr. Bridges, General Burns, and Director Kinkaid are clustered around
Machen.  The rest of the crowd is beginning to break up.  Several limos 
are pulling away. 

The Lacey kneels at the back of the semi, back flipped up to reveal the
cockpit. 

DR. BRIDGES A fine demonstration, Captain.  I must admit, I'm very
impressed with the technological display. Your team has made massive 
strides forward in motion-deviance, but -- 

MACHEN Thank you, Doctor.  I'm sure the research group would simply love
to talk to you in more depth, but I admit to a lack of ... savvy ... 
when it comes to the hardware. I'm sure you understand. 

DR. BRIDGES Oh, absolutely, Captain Machen, but I was actually
interested in -- 

GENERAL BURNS (gruffly) You really think that big bucket of bandages and
baling wire can do the job of a squad of trained men, Machen? 

MACHEN You just saw the demo, General. It looked to me as if the Lacey
did a fine job of just that. 

GENERAL BURNS Bah.  Crocked demos are no replacement for good, solid
field experience.  You know that, soldier! 

Machen straightens his sleeve.  He wrinkles his nose. 

MACHEN General.  I realize that at your ... advanced age 

General Burns fumes silently. 

MACHEN (continuing) ... the recognition that tradition is ended and its
time to move on is difficult to grasp.  However, I assure you, in 
simulation -- 

GENERAL BURNS In simulation! 

MACHEN (smoothly continuing) -- in simulation the Lacey has taken
everything that we could throw at her and come out on top. 

Director Kinkaid and Dr. Bridges exchange whispers, unseen by General
Burns. 

GENERAL BURNS I don't know which is worse, your blasted "simulations" or
thinking about some poor soldier dying in a big ol' rat trap like that 
there hunk of garbage. 

Machen's nostrils flare. 

MACHEN A pity the regular "Armed Forces" weren't able to produce such a
machine, is it not, General? 

Director Kinkaid steps between Machen and General Burns. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID I'm sure the General ... 

Director Kinkaid gives General Burns a sharp look. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID (continuing) ... understands the amount of effort that
went into the development of this brilliant new weapon system, Captain 
Machen.  I am very impressed.  This suit could make the exploration of 
the DZ much, much easier and safer. 

MACHEN (thoughtfully) As I'm well aware, Madame Director.  The Demon
Zone area was strongly on my mind the first time I saw the Lacey 
demonstrated. (pause) I had intended to come and extend personal 
invitation to you, Director.  But, I'm well aware of the demands on 
your time. 

Machen takes Director Kinkaid's hand briefly and bows over it. 

DR. BRIDGES I would have been very interested in the progress of this
project myself, Captain; the amount of power necessary to drive such a 
large suit of metal at such speeds must be enormous, 5.7 gigawatts at 
least!  How do you manage -- 

A FIGURE in a dark blue leather and ceramic suit walks toward the group;
the helmet it wears is dead black with a pair of bright green feline 
eyes painted over the visor. 

Machen turns. 

MACHEN Ah!  I do believe the pilot of the Lacey will now give us the
benefit of company. (pause) Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce -- 

The figure takes the helmet off, revealing the face of a beautiful young
black woman (22), her kinky hair pulled up in a bun which she quickly 
frees and lets down, shaking it out before thrusting her gloved hand at 
Director Kinkaid. 

WILLOW -- Willow Gallatin.  A pleasure. 

WILLOW shakes Director Kinkaid's hand agressively, then General Burns',
then Dr. Bridges'. 

WILLOW (continuing) Director Shelia Kinkaid, General Roland Burns, and
Doctor Bill Bridges, if I'm not mistaken. 

Dr. Bridges and Director Kinkaid exchange looks. 

GENERAL BURNS A pleasure, young lady.  I'm surprised at your
recognition. 

MACHEN Lieutennant Gallatin was top of her class in both Intelligence
and Piloting.  She seemed the perfect choice for this assignment. 

WILLOW (impishly) I have to say, driving the Lacey around the field is
worth the time I put into class. 

Willow palms sweat from her brow and unconsciously runs her hand through
her hair. 

DR. BRIDGES I was extremely impressed with the adeptness with which you
navigated the course, Ms. Gallatin.  There seemed to be a bit of 
sluggishness in the controls at the beginning of the simulation, 
however.  Can I assume that the power system takes time to generate 
sufficient impetus to -- 

WILLOW Oh, no, nothing like that at all. The girl just tends to be a bit
slow when she's moving on autopilot.  Nothing like taking the reins 
myself. 

MACHEN (cooly) In whose very capable hands those reins took out six of
General Burns' best infantryman. 

Isn't that right, General? 

General Burns frowns at the baiting, eyes flicking up and down Willow's
slim form. 

GENERAL BURNS Yes. 

MACHEN (goading) Hand-picked, weren't they? 

DIRECTOR KINKAID That's enough, Captain. 

Director Kinkaid gives Willow a smile. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID (continuing) You did extremely well out there. I assume
there are other pilots who've been trained in the Lacey? 

WILLOW There are. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID Would you mind if I contacted you through Captain
Machen later?  The Research Center has a small project of our own we'd 
-- 

GENERAL BURNS Are you sure this is wise to discuss here, Kinkaid? 

Director Kinkaid shoots General Burns a venomous look. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID General, I will not remind you again that you are a
consultant on this project and no more.  Should I need to contact the 
Chiefs of Staff about you overstepping your bounds, you can be 
replaced. 

General Burns looks sour.  Dr. Bridges gives a secret smile. 

GENERAL BURNS Yes, ma'am. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID Excellent. (to Willow) As I was saying, we have a small
project that you or your fellow trainees might be very helpful with. 

Willow looks sideways to Machen.  He gives a slight nod. 

WILLOW Yes, ma'am.  I would love to help out.  The Lacey's a darling to
pilot. 

Director Kinkaid smiles radiantly at the girl. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID Wonderful!  We'll be in touch. 

MACHEN Always a pleasure to work with you, Director Kinkaid. 

Willow and Machen drop snap salutes to the General, turn, and walk
toward the semi. 

DR. BRIDGES I wanted to ask a few more questions about that system. 

Director Kinkaid pats Dr. Bridges on the shoulder. 

DIRECTOR KINKAID I'll see you get your chance. 

Director Kinkaid and Dr. Bridges turn and leave, headed past the empty
bleachers. 

General Burns stands a few moments, watching them leave.  He waves down
a HUMMV and gets in. 

GENERAL BURNS Army Special Affairs Outpost.  And don't spare the
go-juice. 

The HUMMV roars off. 

EXT - VARSITY VII - STREET - NIGHT 

A black sedan sits by the side of the reasonably intact road. The
buildings in this area of the city seem to be damaged, but not 
destroyed.  Behind the car is a vacant lot run riot with weeds, thick, 
gnarled trees and indescribably mutated plantlife. 

Two PEOPLE sit in the car, the light too low to make out features.  One
seems to have a hugely flared collar pulled up.  They watch the small 
shop across the street.  The car is reflected in the shop's cracked 
front window. 

One of the two figures flicks a lighter, momentarily flooding the front
seat with light. 

The figure with a FLARED COLLAR ... really has a huge flared collar on
his leather jacket.  Sandy brown hair, nondescript brown eyes, around 
twenty-five.  He seems unremarkable in almost every way. 

The other figure is ... different.  Flat, glassy dead blue- white eyes
catch the flaring flame.  Long black hair courses over shoulders as the 
beautiful DEADGIRL (18), a cigarette hanging limply between her cold 
lips.  She puffs.  Again. 

The light goes out. 

In Flared Collar's hand he's got a heavy Desert Eagle .50 cal pistol. 
From an inner pocket he pulls another.  Checks the clips.  Sticks 
another couple clips in his jacket pockets. 

FLARED COLLAR You know, those things'll kill ya. 

Deadgirl checks her pockets.  Pulls out a Glock, checks the slide, grabs
a few extra clips from the glove compartment. Ka-chinks a round into 
the chamber. 

DEADGIRL Little bit late, but it could always be worse. 

Deadgirl stubs out the cigarette having only taken a single drag. 

DEADGIRL (continuing) Can't taste the goddamn things, anyway. 

You ready? 

Flared Collar nods. 

FLARED COLLAR Better believe it. 

He ka-chinks each of his pistols.  They both open the doors
simultaneously. 

DEADGIRL You know they won't be glad to see us. 

FLARED COLLAR Is anyone? 

DEADGIRL Your mother, maybe. 

FLARED COLLAR Been dead ten years. 

DEADGIRL Hey, like that'd stop me from talking to her? 

FLARED COLLAR Point. 

They take up flanking positions on either side of the door. It reads,
"The Varsity VII", but the glass has been replaced with weathered 
cardboard along the whole storefront. 

Deadgirl knocks on the doorframe. 

DEADGIRL Mister Mandorga?  Its us.  You want to let us in?  We'd just
like to see you a minute. 

FLARED COLLAR (softly) That never works. 

DEADGIRL (softly) First time for everything. 

Two heavy shotgun blasts sear through the door between Deadgirl and
Flared Collar! 

ANGRY VOICE I ain't a comin' out!  I know you workin' for Kee!  He wants
me dead! 

Flared Collar sighs. 

FLARED COLLAR (softly) You never listen. 

DEADGIRL Mandorga!  Really, we're just here to -- 

Two more blasts tear the cardboard off the windows to either side! 

DEADGIRL (continuing; softly) Right.  OK.  You go around back, I'll go
-- 

Flared Collar pulls both guns up to his chest, spins and kicks the front
door wide.  One arm pistons out to either side as he goes through, 
crouching, mamoth pistols in each fist spitting light and death ahead 
and around him. 

DEADGIRL (continuing) -- or I could just follow you in as you go through
like a fire demon.  Sure. 

Deadgirl shrugs, then rolls forward through the door after Flared
Collar, her Glock barking counterpoint. 

INT - VARSITY VII (FAST FOOD JOINT) 

The building's interior was very obviously diner, and may stll be so.  A
long counter runs down the side of the building, shielding a room full 
of fast-food cookery equipment.  A glass-walled room full of tables and 
chairs, all remarkably intact, is on the left. 

Flared Collar thrusts his fists full of pistol to either side and
continues low-walking forward.  DEFORMED HUMANS holding guns in various 
states of disrepair fire away at the man, who seems to hardly ever move 
but remains untouched. 

Five mooks in the dining area start throwing up a barricade of tables
and chairs, firing intermittently at Flared Collar. Flared Collar spins 
delicately, his jacket flaring at his feet, stands and two-hands 
bullets at the makeshift cover. Glass shatters and falls as the bullets 
cut their own ways through.  Splinters and chrome go flying everywhere. 


Before Flared Collar's jacket can settle, Deadgirl rolls through the
door behind him. 

POP, POP, POP, the Glock drops three mooks who pop up from behind the
counter. 

DEADGIRL Why do we always end up doing these things your way? 

FLARED COLLAR Better idea? 

DEADGIRL Why not just try walking in unarmed, and, you know, maybe talk
it out? 

Flared Collar and Deadgirl stand back to back, turning as more mooks
pour out of the dining wings, slowly making their way to the counter. 

FLARED COLLAR Too slow. 

DEADGIRL Oh, its too slow, is it? 

Deadgirl reloads with an efficient clik-clik. 

The empty clip clatters on the floor. 

Half a dozen mooks try to rush them from behind, crashing through the
windows already shot out by the first blasts outside. 

Deadgirl and Flared Collar pivot together, arms forming a dangerous
pyramid, Deadgirl's Glock over Flared Collar's Eagles, and send bullets 
square between the eyes of the onrushing wave. 

One last body stands therem brains leaking out from his one- eyed face. 

Flared Collar puts twin shots from both guns into the mook's feet.  The
mook falls flat on his face as if pushed from behind. 

FLARED COLLAR Too slow. 

Dead silence. 

Flared Collar pops his magazines and reloads. 

Deadgirl ejects the Glock's empty mag. 

DEADGIRL Shit.  I'm out. 

Sound of feet running to the back. 

ANGRY VOICE Goddamnit, get 'em!  Get 'em! 

DEADGIRL You know, that doesn't sound like good news. 

Flared Collar grunts. 

The two move around the end of the counter and pass between ranks of
machinery. 

Door slam. 

DEADGIRL (continuing) Jesus, this just never gets any easier, does it? 

Flared Collar shakes his head.  Motions Deadgirl to move left silently. 
She nods.  They split up. 

FLARED COLLAR 

... walks between the mixer and the grill.  Turns a corner. Looks both
ways. 

Moves toward the back. 

DEADGIRL 

... slides between a broiler and a sink in the middle of an aisle.  She
traces a finger across the edge of the fryer as she walks by, hips 
shaking. 

DEADGIRL (softly) Well, that hasn't been used in a while.  I've got a
weird feeling about this. 

FLARED COLLAR 

... turns a corner, sees the freezer.  Looks left, looks right.  Only
eating utensil packages.  Opened.  Plastic forks and knives litter the 
floor. 

Edges to the freezer. 

Opens it. 

Eyes go wide.  Backs away a step.  Two. 

FLARED COLLAR'S POV 

Crouched in the freezer is the frozen body of a deformed human.  His
eyes are way on the outside of his forehead and his mouth seems to be 
3/4ths of the way around his head. 

Clutched to his dead mouth is a dismembered arm. 

The freezer is stocked with frozen human parts.  A shelf of human heads
stare in mute horror out.  Arms hang from hooks, swaying in the vented 
air.  Legs lay in a pile against the back wall.  Human torsos hang like 
evicerated cattle in a meat-packing plant. 

FLARED COLLAR Oh shit. 

DEADGIRL 

... moves between the rows like a feral predator.  She makes turn after
turn. 

A growl behind her. 

Deadgirl turns slowly.  Sees the thing behind her. 

DEADGIRL Oh shit. 

The THING leaps on her, mouth opened like a horrid flower, each petal
lined with razor teeth.  Short, dog-like legs claw at her while a 
slug-tail thumps against her belly. 

Deadgirl thrusts the thing away.  Her arms are opened with bloodless
scratches. 

DEADGIRL (continuing) Piece of ... alright, now we'll dance. 

The thing crouches, preparing to dart forward again.  From behind her
hips, Deadgirl draws two long silver katanas. 

The thing dashes forward, rearing up.  Deadgirl slashes in with a blade,
but the thick skinned beast shrugs off the worst of it.  It rears to 
lunge. 

Deadgirl drives a katana right through its open face. 

DEADGIRL (continuing) Well, that wasn't too bad. 

More growls.  Several places around her. 

A thing peers at her from amidst a shelf of condiments. 

An echoing metallic gunshot. 

DEADGIRL (continuing) Eron!  Eron!  We've got problems here! 

FLARED COLLAR (ERON) 

... squeezes off a shot at a thing crouching at the door of the freezer.
 ERON crouches inside, half-behind the frozen corpse.  Both pistols 
thrust forward. 

DEADGIRL (O.S.) Eron!  Eron!  We've got problems here! 

ERON (softly) Duh. 

Three more of the things dart across the freezer door while Eron
crouches there. 

Dart.  Dart. 

BLAM. 

One of the things falls over, its hindquarters twitching beneath a
gaping wound that severs the spine. 

Eron stands, slowly.  Steps forward.  One pistol drops slightly. 

A pair of things slide in from the side as Eron reaches the doorway! 
One battens on his arm, the other foolishly tries to eat a pistol.  
BLAM!  Headless, it falls back. 

The other thing thrashes, trying to tear flesh, claws trying to catch on
the long-coat.  Eron beats his arm against the wall.  Again.  Again!  
The thing's head splits open with the force of it and falls in a pile 
with the others by the door. 

Glittering through the tears in the sleeve are shards of silvered metal.
 Eron examines the tears with slight curiosity, before spinning on his 
heel and leveling both pistols ... 

ERON'S POV 

... directly at Deadgirl! 

ERON Jesus, Jay. 

Deadgirl (JAY) stares wide-eyed at Eron.  The pistols are still up. 

TIGHT ON PISTOLS 

BLAM BLAM! 

RETURN TO SCENE 

Two things are blown bodily out of the air in mid-leap just prior to
falling on Jay from a shelf. 

JAY I really hate jobs like this, you know?  I mean its just not enough
that -- 

Jay drives her blade through a thing just crawling through the shelves
by Eron's shoulder.  He doesn't flinch, barely even turns his head. 

JAY (continuing) -- we come in here on a job, run into a big clump of
some kind of -- 

ERON Degenerate cannibals. 

JAY -- degenerate cannibals? 

Eron hitches a thumb over his shoulder toward the freezer. 

Jay looks. 

JAY (continuing) Not even good quality meat.  This is a Varsity. 

ERON Mandorga. 

JAY I haven't forgotten him.  You ready? 

Eron nods. 

INT - VARSITY VII - OFFICE 

Jay and Eron kick in the door, Desert Eagles and katanas brandished,
pistols smoking, blades tinged with green demon- ichor. 

Huddled in the back corner, wearing soiled chinos and sporting three
eyes, a misshapen head, and one arm from the middle of his chest is 
JULIUS MANDORGA. 

Eron holsters the Eagles with a look of disgust.  Jay perches on the
edge of Mandorga's desk. 

JAY Hi, Jules.  Remember us?  We're the ones you sic'd your patrons on. 

Mandorga just whimpers.  Jay looks at Eron. 

JAY (continuing; to Eron) See if you can shake him out of it. 

BLAM!  A plate-sized hole opens in the desk, revealing a drawer full of
moldy girlie mags. 

MANDORGA Alright, alright! 

Mandorga crawls out from his corner, blubbering, tears coursing. 

MANDORGA (continuing) You can just ... go back to whoever hired you and
tell them you killed old Julius!  Just tell them you blew him away in 
his own office!  What do you want, you want money? 

Mandorga rips open a filing cabinet and reaches inside.  He throws the
wad of bills at Eron's feet! 

MANDORGA (continuing; wailing) What do you want from me!? 

Jay looks at Eron.  Eron reaches into his jacket. 

Mandorga flinches back into his corner. 

A small package thumps to his feet. 

Mandorga peeks out from under one distended lid. 

MANDORGA (continuing) Wha'? 

JAY Genuine infant eyeballs, preserved in a glycerol solution, tinged
with menses from an Arabian horse. (pause) Absolute delicacy ... so I'm 
told. Your shipper sent us.  He didn't think a normal delivery boy 
could handle it. 

Eron polishes the handle of one Eagle. 

ERON Good guess. 

Eron and Jay walk out, leaving Mandorga open-mouthed. 

EXT - VARSITY VII - STREET 

Eron and Jay slide back into the black sedan. 

JAY Did he seem nervous to you? 

ERON Nah. 

JAY Just wondering if it was me. 

The sedan pulls away in a screech of over-revved wheels and acidic
smoke. 

INT - ERON'S BLACK SEDAN 

The cell-phone rings. 

JAY Erandjay Detective agency.  You have the need, we do the deed.
(pause) You want us to do another little job for you, General? 

Eron looks at Jay, who returns a smile and a thumb's up. Eron's eyebrow
twitches. 

JAY (continuing) More than a little job?  Colour me intrigued. (pause)
Considerable investment potential? Long-term service arrangement? 
Potential for expanson of duties? 

Sounds like you're putting some kind of covert action team together,
General. 

Jay arches her eyebrow now and looks at Eron briefly. 

JAY (continuing) Yes, General, I think we can help you out.  Have a pass
waiting at our usual meeting place and you can add another couple of 
names to the roster. 

Oh, and don't forget the down- payment. (pause) Always a pleasure to do
business with you. 

Jay flicks the phone inactive.  Eron just drives. 

ERON Job? 

JAY Looks like we're in for the long- haul, this time. 

ERON Good.  I've been bored. 

The sedan roars off into the fading day. 

NARRATOR (V.O.) A new day ends.  Lives head toward an inevitable
conflict.  Is this the end of the beginning ... 

... or the beginning of the end? 

FADE OUT.</pre>


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