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Panic Room Page #10
the blue cloud on the ceiling suddenly evaporates with
another angry WHOOMP, leaving a few little pockets of flame
that Meg extinguishes by swatting with a blanket. Only one
of the fluorescent lights is left intact; it casts a
flickering, uneven light on the room.
She stands in the middle of the still-smoky panic room,
breathing hard. She shouts, SCREAMS incomprehensibly, making
no sense whatsoever.
She stops, noticing the look Sarah is giving her. Wide-eyed
admiring, frightened, you are an insane woman.
Meg looks to herself. Her arm is signed, the hair burned
off. The sleeve of her T-shirt is burned back to the
shoulder. Her face is sooty, blackened.
Meg GRUNTS, half frightened by herself.
Out in the bedroom, it's worse for Burnham, who has lost most
of his hair and shirt. But his skin isn't badly burned,
which is something, I guess.
Still, he's in a rage. He POUNDS the metal door of the panic
room.
BURNHAM:
I'M COMING IN THERE, B*TCH, I AM
COMING IN THERE! I AM COMING IN
THERE!
Meg whirls, goes to the door herself, SCREAMS right back. We
can hardly make out a word she's saying, but it sounds
threatening.
Suddenly, she stops, hearing something else. Outside the
door, Burnham continues to rant, but there's a second sound,
a sound coming from the long wall of the panic room, the wall
that's shared with the brownstone next door.
It's a faint -- very faint -- POUNDING sound, along with a
high pitched, complaining voice, so faint it can hardly be
SARAH:
Neighbor!
Meg and Sarah leap as one, facing the common wall, SHOUTING
at the tops of their lungs -- get help, call the police,
please, call the police, that sort of thing.
They shout and shout, but the soft pounding continues, and if
their voices are as soft on the other side as the COMPLAINING
VOICE is on this side, they have no hope.
Their voices crack and they begin to cough, too irritated by
the gas to shout for very long. Long after they stop, the
soft POUNDING from next door continues.
Their pleas are not heard.
The Intruders have stopped their racket too, and are
listening carefully at the common wall. Eventually, the soft
POUNDING stops, the complaining voice complains no more.
Burnham stands there, in pain. Things are falling apart.
Raoul stands in the doorway, silhouetted by the hallway
light. He draws himself up to his full, bulky height. He's
big.
RAOUL:
(to Junior)
We're gonna talk. Downstairs.
Junior nods and starts out. Raoul lets him pass, but when
Burnham tries to follow him, Raoul puts a big hand on his
chest stopping him.
RAOUL:
You stay. Make sure she don't come
out.
Burnham swallows. But stays.
Raoul turns, follows Junior downstairs. As he descends, he
looks up, making eye contact with Burnham. And holding it.
Something on his mind, that's for sure.
CUT TO:
THUNK. Meg's head falls back against a wall; she sags to the
floor, legs folded in front of her, completely drained.
But Sarah's not drained, Sarah's full of nervous ingenuity,
rustling around through the stuff in the panic room, an idea
forming in her head. She finds a powerful-looking flashlight
and loads it up with batteries. She tries it, flashing
around the room.
Halogen bulb, very powerful, hurts her mother's eyes as she
flashes it past. Meg watches her. What's she up to?
Sarah lays on the floor in front of the ventilation tube she
discovered earlier. She squints through it.
THROUGH THE TUBE,
she can see out of the house, into the courtyard behind the
brownstone.
About thirty yards away she can see the backs of the
brownstones on the next block, and directly across (because
the tube doesn't leave much room for lateral vision) she can
see straight into somebody's bedroom.
There's a light on. A SLEEPING MAN is in bed, an open book
on his chest.
Sarah sits back.
She grabs the flashlight, looks for a little button on the
top, the kind you can flick the flashlight on and off with.
Shining it on the wall of the panic room, she flashes it at a
wall, three times, on and off. Satisfied, she turns back to
the tube.
Meg, curious, crawls across the floor to join her. Sarah
shoves the flashlight all the way into the tube, leaving
enough room on either side of it for them to see through.
Meg lays down flat, squints into the tube, Sarah alongside
her. She looks at her daughter, curious -- your plan?
Sarah reaches into the tube, finds the little flash button on
the top of the flashlight.
THROUGH THE TUBE,
the piercing halogen beam begins to flash, across the
courtyard and into the bedroom of the Man in the bedroom.
The light flashes on the wall over his bed.
The flashes are in a rhythm. Short. Short. Short. Long.
Long. Long. Short. Short. Short.
Meg turns to Sarah, impressed.
MEG:
Morse code?
SARAH:
(nods)
Dot dot dot, dash dash dash, dot dot
dot.
MEG:
Where'd you learn S.O.S.?
SARAH:
"Titanic."
THROUGH THE TUBE,
the flashes continue -- dot dot dot, dash dash dash, dot dot
dot. But the Man continues to sleep, the light on the wall
behind him has no effect.
Sarah is frustrated. She adjusts the flashlight.
THROUGH THE TUBE,
the beam of light lowers jerkily from the wall until it is
shining directly into the Sleeping Man's eyes.
Sarah strains to keep the light in that perfect spot. She's
starting to sweat. Meg leans over, sneaks a peek at the
watch Sarah wears on her left wrist. The readout:
114
THROUGH THE TUBE,
the Sleeping Man stirs. Opens his eyes. Winces from the
light, which is flashing directly in his eyes.
MEG:
Got him!
SARAH:
Come on, come on...
THROUGH THE TUBE,
the Sleeping Man sits up. Raises a hand, trying to block the
light, which keeps flashing on him.
He gets up, out of bed. He comes to the window.
MEG:
Yes, yes, yes, yes...
Sarah keeps it up, flashing faster.
THROUGH THE TUBE,
they see the Man come all the way to his window. He leans
against it, cups his hands so he can see better. The flashes
continue, right on top of him now.
Clearly, the Man is reading the flashes! He takes a steps
back from the window --
-- and angrily yanks shut his drapes.
A moment later, the light goes out and the room is black.
Meg and Sarah drop their heads to the carpet, defeated.
Sarah rolls over, knocks the flashlight away, stares up at
the ceiling.
Meg puts a hand in her hair. It was a good idea.
SARAH:
We're never getting out of here.
MEG:
Shhh...
She looks at the wristwatch again.
103
She's concerned.
CUT TO:
Burnham is concerned as well. He's still in the master
bedroom, but barely, he's standing in the doorway, straining
like hell to hear a conversation that Junior and Raoul are
having in the foyer, one floor one.
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"Panic Room" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 30 Aug. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/panic_room_916>.
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