Scene 411 //free\\ Access

Enlighten me.

You’re late.

They dial a number from memory. It rings twice. A click. scene 411

They snap the phone in half. The dial tone dies. Outside, headlights sweep the highway—approaching, fast. Enlighten me

They are alone. For the first time in 48 hours, the adrenaline has drained, leaving only a dull ache in their ribs and the taste of copper in their mouth. headlights sweep the highway—approaching