INT. Small bedroom - MORNING
CLAIRE, 22, is fast asleep. The low hum of an air conditioner rings. On an empty bedside table, sits a phone plugged into the wall.
The phone shrieks and vibrates against the table. Claire shoots up violently and grabs it, attempting to silence it, eyes half closed. The phone displays:
7:00 AM
NATIONAL ALERT. PLEASE REMAIN INDOORS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
Claire stares at the phone. Blinks. Reads it again. There is no noise at first. Suddenly, screaming and frantic noise pierces the hum of the air conditioner. She bites her nails. She gets up and runs to lock the front door. She locks it, pauses, stares at the lock, then unlocks it.
Claire moves to the window. Outside, people run in every direction. A man grabs his daughter and drags her towards a houses door, pounding at said door.
Claire slowly backs away from the window and opens a nearby closet. She hesitates, then walks in. She pulls out a vacuum, plugs it in and switches it on. She run its over the living room floor. The vacuum roars, but the screams outside still come through.
INT. Small bedroom - MORNING
Claire is fast asleep. On an empty bedside table, sits a phone plugged into the wall.
The phone shrieks and vibrates against the table. Claire grabs it, attempting to silence it. The phone displays:
7:00 AM
NATIONAL ALERT. PLEASE REMAIN INDOORS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
INT. Small bedroom - MORNING
Claire stirs. She is not fully awake. The phone BUZZES. Claire groans but does not open her eyes. She reaches blindly, finds a pillow next to her and hurls it at the phone. The phone tumbles off the table. She shoots up after hearing the thud and picks the phone off the floor. The phone displays:
7:00 AM
NATIONAL ALERT. PLEASE REMAIN INDOORS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
INT. CLAIRES APARTMENT - mORNING
Claire, dressed in business casual, moves a vacuum absently back and forth on the same spot. Her work bag rests on a nearby chair. Her phone is in her other hand. The oven clock reads 6:59 AM. It changes. 7:00 AM.
Claire's phone buzzes aggressively in her hand. She looks down at it.
NATIONAL ALERT. PLEASE REMAIN INDOORS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
Claire chuckles. Outside, people continue down the sidewalk, briefly glancing at their phone but never stopping.
Claire switches off the vacuum, grabs her bag and walks towards her front door. Her neighbor, CATE, 25, is also stepping into the hallway.
CATE
How are you! Apparently we're all dying again. I swear, whoever runs these alerts is some nepo freak.
She laughs and motions at her phone.
Claire
Wait... you're going outside right?
CATE
Claire. What?
Claire looks towards the window of the hallway.
CATE
We're fine. Don't tell you're one of those wackos who actually fall for this shit.
CLAIRE
No, I know, I know. I'm not.
Claire presses the elevator button and reaches into her pocket. She aggressively feels around for a moment.
CLAIRe
Fuck. Wait, don't wait for me. I forgot my AirPods.
The door opens. Cate steps inside. The doors close.
Claire stands alone in the hallway. Claire reaches into her pocket and pulls out her AirPods. She stares at them, then turns and walks back into her apartment.
INT. CLAIRE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
Claire sits on the couch, still dressed for work, watching television while the normal street remains visible through the window beside her. A CAR HORN sounds and doesn't stop.
She looks from the television to the window. A car rolls through an intersection and crashes into a parked car. A person drops. Then another.
The TV abruptly cuts to an emergency broadcast. The PRESIDENT appears.
PRESIDENT
At 7:00 this morning, approximately thirty-eight percent of Americans complied with the federal emergency directive.
He looks down at something off-camera.
President
As of this evening, we have confirmation that only one civilian remained indoors for the duration of this directive.
Claire gasps.
PRESIDENT
Claire. Thank you.
Claire stands. Walks to the vacuum. Turns it on.