INT. COUPE – UNDERPASS – NIGHT
Amber light streaks across the windshield.
Concrete pillars recede into the night.
MATEO grips the wheel, eyes fixed ahead.
MAYA braces one hand against the door.
Neither looks at the other.
MAYA
Do we go in?
MATEO
Not yet.
A fluorescent strip flickers across the glass. Maya watches the empty road beyond it.
MAYA
How much longer?
Mateo tightens his grip on the wheel. Outside, a distant car passes through the intersection and disappears.
MATEO
Until the light goes out.
Maya turns toward him. He keeps his eyes on the concrete ramp ahead.
The engine hum fills the silence. Above them, one fluorescent tube blinks, then steadies.
MAYA
And if it doesn't?
Mateo checks the rear-view mirror. Empty road. He lets the coupe roll forward a few inches.
Another amber band crosses their faces as they move out from beneath the overpass.
MATEO
Then we make our own way in.
Maya takes her hand from the door. This time she looks through the windshield, toward the road ahead.















