NOTE: “Zoomers” will be shot on smartphones, in such a way that the characters (and the actors who play them), along with the skeleton crew, never have to be in the same room at the same time, thus adhering to government edict in relation to ‘social distancing’ and ensuring that there is zero possibility of any member of the cast or crew transmitting Coronavirus to each other.
1 INT. CAMMIE’S BEDROOM. NIGHT
Opening credit sequence
Seen through a wide-angle lens, very slightly distorted:
A 34 inch computer monitor rests on a desk cluttered with school text books, a smartphone and a digital ‘slate’. Clipped to the top of the monitor is a live-streaming camera.
Alongside the computer: a LED light on a stand, turned off, four Remote Control devices and a plastic bottle of ‘Instant Hand Sanitiser’, sitting on top of a pile of books. The sound of a vacuum cleaner can be heard.
There are several ‘windows’ open on the monitor: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tik Tok and Zoom, along with high school-work related folders.
In the background: a young woman’s bedroom. A doorway opens into an ensuite bathroom.
The cursor on the computer starts to move of its own accord; opens the Tik Tok window.
A teenage girl with blue hair, blue lipstick, her face caked with layers of make-up (blue tears beneath her eyes) and wearing an exotic (bizarre) outfit, pleads, in song, with her green-haired, pink lipstick-ed teen girlfriend:
BLUE HAIRED GIRL (singing)
Spill the tea, what did he say,
Tell me tell me; make my day.
CAMMIE, late teens, walks into frame in the background; vacuuming the floor. She wears a school uniform; has her blonde hair tied in bun on top of her head; wears wireless earphones; moves in sync with the music she is listening to.
The cursor onscreen clicks on: “Brave New World Discussion Notes.” A school teacher looks out at us from the screen:
SCHOOL TEACHER
What does Orwell mean when he writes: “But I do not want comfort. I want God. I want poetry, I want real danger. I want freedom. I want goodness. I want sin.”
In the background, Cammie stops vacuuming, dances to the music she is listening to.
The cursor clicks on the red dot in the upper left had side of the window, closes the page; opens Cammie’s social media windows briefly:
- Cats dressed in designer clothes, sunglasses, on a catwalk
- Friend’s ‘selfies’
- Inspirational quotes: “If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”
As Cammie dances in the background, the cursor moves to the Chrome web browser; opens ‘Google’, clicks on ‘History’.Cammies most recent Google searches are revealed. The cursor searches through them, clicks on:
Mind Control Technology
A woman of Asian extraction talks to camera, a moving graphic of a 3-D brain behind her.
ASIAN WOMAN
By channelling our brain waves into real world commands we are on the cusp of a kind of brain augmentation that will transform the way we are as humans…
Cammie turns off the vacuum cleaner. The cursor closes the window. The thin, faint sound of the music Cammie was dancing to, emanating from her earbuds, can now be faintly heard.
As Cammie packs the vacuum cleaner into a cupboard, the cursor moves fast through Cammie’s Google ‘history’; opens a web page, replete with a photo of man in a Guy Fawkes mask, that reads:
“How to use TOR browser to access the Dark Web”
As Cammie walks towards her computer, the cursor closes the window.
Cammie picks up the bottle of hand sanitiser, squirts some on her hands, rubs them together, still moving to the music. She unclips an mp3 digital player from the belt around her waist, turns the music off; looks at her watch; sits in front of her computer.
A new camera angle. In a mid-shot we see Cammie sitting in front of her computer. Behind her, a single bed has her childhood soft toys and dolls propped up against the pillows. On it also rests a laptop computer, its screen flipped open; facing her back.
She opens a document, consults notes, thinks for a moment; starts typing. As her fingers fly fast across the keyboard, as the opening credits continue to roll, we can take in some of the details of her cluttered and cramped bedroom:
A running machine and an exercise bike occupy one corner; alongside a small bar refrigerator - close to an open sliding glass door leads onto a small verandah. On the other side of the road can be seen the lit windows of the upper floors of high rise apartment blocks.
Against one wall there is a three-mirror dressing table, on which rests a hair dryer, crimping irons and a vast array of beauty products.
In front of the dressing table is a photographic collage: 36 ‘selfies’ of Cammie. In each she has a different hair style, wears different make-up and has a different expression on her face - from happy and carefree to sullen and angry.
Posters on the walls, photos of family and friends, the room’s decor, all suggest that Cammie is a fairly ‘typical’ member of her generation - Gen Z. With one exception:
A large, eye catching multi-coloured poster of an ‘Eye of Horus’:
Cammie picks up one of four remote control devices beside her computer, realizes she has the wrong one, picks up another, points it directly at us, presses a button.
The shot we are looking at tightens a little. She looks at her computer monitor (we do not see it), presses a button for a few seconds more. The shot tightens a little more.
Cammie places the remote control back on her desk, picks up another, presses a button. The LED light on a stand beside her computer lights up, bathing her face in soft light. She places the remote on the desk; looks directly at us.
Fade to black
Final Title Card: ZOOMERS
Fade up from black. Cammie, wearing glasses now, places a remote control device on the desk beside her, looks directly at us. Her tone of voice is warm, intimate. She speaks fast.
CAMMIE
Hi. Welcome to my prison.
Title card: CAMMIE
CAMMIE
Where to begin? Home schooling!?
NOTE: For the next 15 or so minutes, this scene is held in one shot; ‘jump cut’ so that it moves fast; with few pauses.
CAMMIE
The good things about it? I get to work when I feel like it. The bad things? I don’t like much in the curriculum. Except for English. I love to read. This pile keeps getting higher.
Cammie indicates the pile of books on her desk, picks up one, holds it so that the title can be read:
LUST
CAMMIE
Can’t imagine what this one is about!
She laughs, opens it at a random page, reads: “With his lips on mine and one hand lightly caressing my breasts, his other hand...”
Cammie flirts for the camera.
CAMMIE
You get the idea. This one is not a set school text, in case you are wondering.
She stands, takes her glasses off, tosses them onto her bed; indicates her school uniform.
CAMMIE
This is mum’s idea.
She unpins the bun on top of her head; mimics her mother.
CAMMIE
“If you dress for school, you’ll feel like you’re in school.”
(she undoes her plaits...)
It’s not true, but I humour her.
(A BEAT) Most days.
(...shakes her long blonde hair free)
I cheat sometimes, especially when she has day shifts and I know there is no chance of her checking on me.
Cammie combs her fingers through her hair to loosen it; shakes her head up and down to give it volume, looks directly into the camera; flirting theatrically:
CAMMIE
You like? (A BEAT) I like that thing you posted on Tik Tok. Funny as!
Cammie looks at her smart watch as she walks across the room. The camera swivels to follow her:
CAMMIE
Oh, I want you to meet Horus. Hang on.
She leans close to camera filming her, at us, (we, the audience), her face distorting in the wide angle lens. Speaking in a ‘black’ American female rapper’s voice:
CAMMIE
Hi Horus, my man. How is you today?
Cammie speaks in a deep, very British, ‘male’ voice.
CAMMIE
“You want the twitter version or the truth, mam?”
(reverting to her own voice)
The reassuring lie, H. Does my bum look big in this?
She turns, wiggles her butt, laughs, disappears into the ensuite bathroom adjoining her bedroom for a moment, emerges moments later holding a LED Lighted Makeup Mirror.
She walks up to the camera filming her; looks directly at us.
CAMMIE
My companion, my friend...
She holds the mirror so close that the entire screen is filled with the image of a smartphone, mounted on a moving gimble.
CAMMIE
My lover? My diary...
She steps back. The mirror image of the camera grows smaller.
CAMMIE
...Horus follows me everywhere, don’t you, H? ...well, almost everywhere.
She laughs, walks back into the bathroom, closes the door for a moment, opens it again, without the mirror; walks back towards her desk. The camera follows her.
CAMMIE
A girl needs her privacy. Her secrets. Yes?
Cammie looks at her watch again.
CAMMIE
Sorry, Sis, can’t talk for long right now, that’s why I am talking so fast. Actually, I’m capping. I talk fast all the time. Drives mum crazy. And she’s not the only one. I drive a lot of people crazy. Even me.
She pauses for a moment, as if not quite sure what to say next. A moment of self-consciousness that she breaks by walking up to the Eye of Horus poster on the wall. The camera swivels to follow her.
CAMMIE
In case you are wondering, and even if you are not, this is the Eye of Horus.
She points at the poster on the wall.
CAMMIE
Horus sees all, knows all. Except when...
She picks up one of four control devices sitting alongside her lap top; presses a button. Her computer monitor comes alive with news of the pandemic. Only the back of the monitor is visible.
TV BROADCAST (VO)
The death toll now stands at...
CAMMIE
Oops.
She switches the TV off, replaces the device, picks up another, presses a button. The screen goes black for a few seconds before flickering back into life.
CAMMIE
That’s how quickly I can ghost you. If I want to. Remember that. (A BEAT) Oh, and if you want to know more about Horus, google ‘Eye of Horus’.
The remote control device in her hand, Cammie moves to her dressing table, sits on a swivel stool with her back to its three mirrors, points the remote control at us again.
CAMMIE
So here’s how it works, Sis.
The shot zooms in closer on her.
CAMMIE
You make a video, send it to me, I send it to the others, we look at it and decide if you are ‘one of us’ or…not one of us. Okay?
Cammie turns around; her back to the camera now. We can see three images on her in the mirrors - one front on, two in semi profile; framed by the photographic collage of selfies.
As she talks she dabs Magic Eye Rescue to the ‘blemishes and imperfections’ of her face.
CAMMIE
And you have to do a test. We don’t want any ‘positives’. Sorry. Brutal, I know, but that’s the way it is. Survival of the fittest.
(playful)
We don’t want you dying on us, Sis, do we?
She stops making herself up, freezes, stares at herself in the mirror for a long moment; no longer playful.
CAMMIE
Do you think about dying?
She looks at the mirror reflection of the camera filming her; directly us.
CAMMIE
I do. A lot. I don’t want to die and yet...
(She touches her wrist)
…it wasn’t long ago that I thought that dying was the best way out of this...I don’t mean this ‘thing’ that is racing around the world like a mad thing killing everyone, but this....life...
(She runs a finger across her wrist)
So much sadness...too much...Now that people I know are dying and...hey, I could be one of them....I want to live. I don’t want to die. And if they can’t invent a vaccine...Fuck!
Cammie sits still for a long moment, thinking, worrying, before snapping suddenly out of her reflective mood; back into ‘playful’.
CAMMIE
But if it is not to be, hey! It is what it is...eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we will die, someone famous once said. Can’t remember who. Speaking of drinking...
She stands, walks up to the bar fridge, opens the door, takes out a half full bottle of pink Rosé
CAMMIE
A present from The Rod. He’s one of us. Cute. He has a great six pack and....well...
(she pours herself a glass of Rosé)
...he has a way with words. He can tell a story that is both... imaginative...clever...and sexy...
(She sips her wine)
Very sexy. And the fact that his mum and dad have money is an attractive feature. Could come in handy, given my current financial circumstances. (A BEAT) Did I just say that? (A BEAT) If you do become one of us, don’t ever tell The Rod that I said that. Promise? I know it’s very shallow of me, but I do like a man with a six pack and...I guess you’ve guessed why I call him ‘The Rod’.
(she sips her wine)
He’s...OK...moving on...Where was I? That’s right...we don’t want any dead Zoomers in this tribe. Yes, we’re calling it a tribe. Fuck it. Like “Lord of the Flies” but without the blood and gore. No Piggies in this club. And no Jacks or Ralphs either. No leaders, no followers. Egalitarian. Check it out on google if you don’t know what ‘egalitarian’ means.
Cammie takes another sip of her pink Rosé; sits down on the swivel stool, leans close to the mirrors applies highlighter to her eyebrows.
CAMMIE
I don’t want to overdo it with the make-up. I mean...
(she sips her wine)
...it’s not like I am going out to a club or anything and want to look better than all the other girls. No-one but my date...his name is Sandy, by the way...is going to see me. Did I tell you I had a date? In a few minutes now. Virtual.
She picks up a remote control device, turns the computer monitor on, clicks open the relevant window, swivels the screen around so that we can see it.
In one window onscreen: the Home Page for ZOOM - a still photo of Sandy, mid 20s, handsome; smiling.
Cammie’s smartphone rings. She picks it up. Her mother voice is heard through speakers:
CAMMIE’S MUM’S VOICE
My precious?
Cammie rolls her eyes at us; reaches for a remote control device.
CAMMIE’S MUM’S VOICE
It’s all quiet on the ward, for a change and I thought...
Cammie mutes her mother’s voice; nods her head; looks at her watch.
CAMMIE
Thanks mum. Yes, I am still ‘at school’. Yes, I will finish that assignment. Yes, I can fix myself dinner. No, I’m not being rude. I’m busy. What I am busy with is none of your business! Mum, for fuck’s sake, why do we have to go through this every day? Gotta go. Love you.
(she hangs up)
Mothers! (A BEAT) I guess you’ve got a mum, right? and she gives you a hard time, right...
Cammie takes a sip of wine; looks at her watch.
CAMMIE
I don’t want mum to worry about me. I’m 18 for fuck’s sake. Does she have a good reason to worry? Mmmm...Yes. And I have good reasons to worry about me so we’re even. (A BEAT) I wish she would stop work...stay home. I know that’s selfish, considering...but...I’ve only got one mum. She works in a hospital and is super busy right now, as you can imagine. (A BEAT) I love my mum. She’s the best. She drives me crazy, but not as crazy as I drive her. And you?
(she laughs)
That’s a rhetorical question. Tell us in your video. If you don’t know what ‘rhetorical’ means, check out google. That’s R-H-E-T-O-R-I-C-A-L...
(her computer ‘dings’)
Shit, gotta to go, sorry, Sis. More later...I’ll text you.
She swivels around, looks at Sandy onscreen, in a window alongside one with her sitting at the computer monitor.
CAMMIE
Be with you in sec, Sandy.
She minimizes the window linked to the camera filming her. Sandy, sitting at his computer, fills half the screen. Sandy’s POV of Cammie fills the other half.
Cammie picks up a remote control device, points it at us; presses the ‘off’ button; swings around to face the monitor.
NOTE: Cammie is seen in profile; the computer screen is at a 45% angle to us, but Sandy can be clearly seen.
CAMMIE
Sorry ‘bout that, Sandy. Hi.
Sandy, mid 20s, has a winning smile; a confident manner.
SANDY
Hi.
Cammie glances at her smart watch.
CAMMIE
You’re very punctual, aren’t you?
SANDY
If you say you’re going to do something...I reckon you should just do it.
CAMMIE
Yes, flakes drive me crazy.
SANDY
So, what’s this all about?
CAMMIE
What made you curious?
SANDY
Your smile.
CAMMIE
My smile? What about it?
SANDY
The way you hide behind it.
Cammie is a little shocked but tries to hide it.
CAMMIE
Hide?
SANDY
You know what I mean. And I know you know what I mean.
They look at each other for a long moment.
SANDY
Don’t you?
(Cammie nods)
Do you want to beat around the bush? Or cut to the chase?
CAMMIE
Beat around the bush for....say, a few minutes, then cut to the chase.
Sandy laughs.
SANDY
You got a stopwatch?
CAMMIE (laughs)
I do, actually but...tell me something interesting about yourself.
SANDY
I don’t like beating around the bush. Your turn.
CAMMIE
I’m a compulsive liar.
SANDY (laughs)
You’re lying, right?
CAMMIE
No.
SANDY
No, you’re not lying about being a compulsive liar?
CAMMIE
Yes.
SANDY
Yes, you are lying about being a compulsive liar?
CAMMIE (laughs)
Yes, both of those are true.
(they laugh together)
Sandy?
SANDY
Cammie?
CAMMIE
I have a confession to make.
SANDY (laughs)
You do move fast, don’t you?
CAMMIE
‘Hurricane Cammie’, my mum calls me.
SANDY
So, what’s your confession? You’re not really a girl?
CAMMIE
Fuck, you guessed! No...well, I have been....am...drinking.
She pulls her glass of pink Rosé into frame.
Sandy laughs, pulls his long neck bottle of beer into frame.
They both laugh.
SANDY
Cheers
CAMMIE
Cheers.
They both clink their respective drinks against their computer screens.
SANDY
I’m trying to cut back.
CAMMIE
I’m not, but I suppose I should.
SANDY
Your liver would probably appreciate it.
Cammie laughs. There is a moment of awkward silence.
CAMMIE
That ‘pandemic porn’ thing you posted was pretty funny.
SANDY (smiles)
That two minutes went very fast.
CAMMIE
Thought you didn’t like beating around the bush. (A BEAT) Seems like you are into that stuff.
SANDY
Some of it is pretty funny.
CAMMIE
Do you get off on it?
(Sandy smiles sheepishly)
I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. (A BEAT) I’ve written a script, actually... ‘pandemic porn’ and I’m looking for some actors…
Sandy looks at her; unsure if she is bullshitting him or not.
SANDY
Yes, I do get off on it, but I’m trying to cut back.
CAMMIE
Your penis would probably appreciate it.
SANDY (laughs)
Tell me about your script.
CAMMIE (laughs)
You asking as a viewer or...you interested in being a performer? Just kidding. (A BEAT) Mmmm…or am I?
(Serious now)
Do you ever find it difficult to tell, sometimes. I mean, you imagine something, right, but you know it can never happen. And then, just like this ‘thing’ that’s invaded us...from inner space...and has us all cooped up like…fucking rats in a huge cosmic lab experiment…the thing we could never have imagined...becomes... reality ...and what came before...our lives, like yesterday, seem like...a dream...a kind of paradise.
She looks at Sandy for affirmation. He reaches out with his hand, touches the screen of his computer. Cammie follows suit. Their hands meet in cyberspace.
CAMMIE
So, nothing seems impossible anymore...if you can imagine it...but at the same time, everything seems impossible, if you know what I mean.
Sandy smiles, shakes his head.
SANDY
So that’s what’s hiding behind that smile.
Cammie beams the happiest of smiles; holds her glass of Rosé up to the computer screen.
CAMMIE
Skol.
Sandy bursts out laughing, reaches out, picks up a long neck bottle of beer, holds it out to Cammie.
SANDY
Skol. My imagination scares me sometimes. The things I can imagine myself doing but can’t, because...
CAMMIE
Because?
SANDY
I can’t tell you on a first...is this a date?
CAMMIE
You can trust me.
SANDY
It’s me I can’t trust.
CAMMIE
I’m a little bit drunk.
SANDY
Me too.
CAMMIE
Maybe more than a little. (A BEAT) Do you have a six pack, Sandy?
SANDY
Of beer?
CAMMIE
You know what I mean. (A BEAT) I bet you do.
They look at each other for a long moment.
CAMMIE
Take your t-shirt off.
Sandy hesitates for a moment, his eyes locked on Cammie’s; peels off his t-shirt. Cammie finishes her Rosé; reaches for the bottle.
CAMMIE
Stand up. I want to see your six pack.
Sandy stands, flexes his stomach muscles.
CAMMIE
Mmmm, not bad.
SANDY
You take off your shirt.
Cammie pours herself another glass of Rosé.
CAMMIE
Please.
SANDY
Take it off.
CAMMIE
You can’t just...tell me what to do. You have to ask politely.
SANDY
Did you ask me politely?
CAMMIE
No, I guess not.
Cammie takes a slug of Rosé, puts her glass down on the desk. As she does so, she knocks one of the remote control devices onto the floor; laughs.
CAMMIE
Oops!
Cammie unbuttons her school uniform shirt; takes it off; holds her arms protectively over her breasts for a moment; removes them; sits in her bra, looking at Sandy - shy but trying to act as confident as she can.
CAMMIE
Well?
SANDY
Are you fishing for a compliment?
CAMMIE
Yes.
SANDY
You have a beautiful body. The bit I can see of it, that is.
CAMMIE
You want to see more?
SANDY
You want to show me more?
CAMMIE
If you ask politely.
SANDY
I’m really more interested to see if you are beautiful inside.
CAMMIE
No, I’m a bitch.
SANDY
Liar.
CAMMIE
I wish.
SANDY
So, who are you really, Cammie? You’re not really a school kid, are you?
CAMMIE
What makes you think that?
SANDY
Gut feeling.
Cammie laughs; sips her wine.
CAMMIE
Fake school girl?
SANDY
Something like that.
CAMMIE
Something?
(He hesitates)
Come on, Sandy, no secrets here, what kind of ‘something’? You won’t offend me with...the ‘truth’.
SANDY
My truth?
CAMMIE
Your truth. I’m unbreakable.
She takes another gulp of her Rosé.
CAMMIE
I’m not working for ‘Dream Lover’, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not about to ask you for your credit card details or anything.
SANDY
What’s ‘Dream Lover’?
CAMMIE
You don’t know?
(he shakes his head)
It’s an online chat service, where women get paid to flirt with men.
SANDY
Why would I want to pay, when I can flirt for free.
CAMMIE
Precisely. Do you do that a lot? Flirt online?
SANDY
A bit.
CAMMIE
Just a bit?
SANDY
OK, a lot....lately. Since...
CAMMIE
And how far do you take it? The flirting?
SANDY
Are you flirting with me now?
CAMMIE
Maybe, now if you’ll just give me your credit card details.
SANDY (laughs)
You ever worked for ‘Dream Lover’...or anything like that?
CAMMIE
I wish you hadn’t asked me that.
SANDY
It’s OK. Whatever answer you give me will be a lie.
Cammie bursts out laughing. Sandy smiles, takes a swig of his beer.
CAMMIE
No, I have never ever, in my whole life, engaged in online sexual activity of any kind.
Sandy laughs.
Cammie stands, undoes her skirt, lets it drop to the floor; stands self-consciously in her bra and knickers.
Sandy stands, takes his shorts off, stands facing Cammie, wearing only his y-front briefs.
Their bravado has deserted them. Both are overcome with shyness; are awkward; not sure what to do now.
CAMMIE
I needed some money one time. And I thought, “Hey, why not? Safe sex.” But it’s not safe. It does your head in.
SANDY
Is this doing your head in?
CAMMIE
No, because I like you. (A BEAT) A lot.
SANDY
Is that the truth?
Cammie nods.
CAMMIE
Do you want to make love with me?
SANDY
Do I need to sign a consent form?
CAMMIE
I had my lawyer draw one up.
(Sandy smiles)
“I consent to Sandy..whatever your second name is...making love with me in cyberspace, up to and including a ‘happy ending.’
The smile disappears from Sandy’s face.
SANDY
I wish they wouldn’t call it that.
CAMMIE
Oh!
SANDY
It’s really a sad ending. Empty. It’s not what I want.
Sandy moves his head close to his camera, so that it fills the window on Cammie’s monitor.
SANDY
Does it make you happy? A ‘happy ending’?
Cammie moves close to the camera on her monitor.
CAMMIE
That’s a very personal question, Sandy.
SANDY
Yeah, and what’s your very personal answer...Cammie?
They look at each other for a long moment.
Tears well in Cammie’s eyes. She fights them back; loses the fight. Tears stream down her cheeks. She shakes her head.
CAMMIE
I am so lonely, Sandy. So so lonely.
Sandy has tears in his eyes also.
SANDY
Me too.
They kiss their respective cameras; their lips meeting in cyberspace.
Cammie, emotionally very vulnerable, looks away, towards us, sees something that shocks her; causes her to leap to her feet.
She looks directly at us.
CAMMIE
Oh, fuck!
She grabs a remote device, points it at us; presses a button. Her computer turns off.
CAMMIE
Fuck, fuck, fuck...
She picks up two near to identical remove control devices and, as she is deciding which is the right one, there is a loud chiming sound. Cammie freezes, looks at the door to her bedroom.
She shouts out:
CAMMIE
Mum?
MALE VOICE
It’s me.
Cammie is not sure who ‘me’ is.
CAMMIE
Hang on, ‘me’.
She panics, freezes for a moment before picking up a t-shirt from her bed, putting it on. It is emblazoned with an ‘Eye of Horus’.
The penny drops for her. She realizes who ‘me’ is, and is far from happy that he is at her front door.
She hesitates, unsure what to do. A sound intrudes. A buzzing sound. It grows louder and louder.
Cammie’s panic become sheer terror as she turns and looks towards the open doorway leading onto the verandah.
A tiny drone slips out of the darkness, into the open doorway and hovers just a few feet from her.
Cammie screams. Loudly.
‘Me’ at the front door shouts out:
MALE VOICE
Olivia, are you OK. Open up...
Cammie freezes, unsure what to do.
Clipped to the bottom of the drone is a small envelope with an ‘Eye of Horus’ icon on it.
2 INT. DARK ROOM
Close on a computer screen.
Cammie’s bedroom as seen by a wide-angle fish-eye lens, hidden high in a corner. CCTV footage. Cammie looks from the drone hovering in the doorway, envelope hanging from it, to the door of her bedroom.
In a wider shot, the computer screen is revealed to be sitting on a desk. Cammie remains frozen onscreen, trying to decide what to do next.
A hand, encased in a white surgical glove, appears in frame, moves the cursor to ‘pause’. The image onscreen freezes.
Reflected onscreen is the surgically masked face of the person sitting at the computer.
In yet a wider shot we see, resting on the desk around the computer, various printed documents. One is marked ‘Toxicology Analysis’. Another: “Police Incident Report”. And there is a photo of a body lying on a footpath, face down, wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with the ‘Eye of Horus’ symbol.
The body is surrounded by yellow and black ‘do-not-enter’ police tape. The face of the victim is obscured by the legs of a police officer taking photos of the body.
S/he ‘minimizes’ the image onscreen, moves it to a folder marked “Exhibit A”.
3 EXT. PITTWATER. SUNSET
Skimming low over Pittwater bay, just inches from the water, heading towards Lion Island.
To the accompaniment of synth music we rise from the water and swerve in a wide arc that reveals Barrenjoey headland, topped with a lighthouse.
As the shot slows to allow us to take in this majestic view, so too does the music slow; becomes more mellow.
Suddenly we are falling at breakneck speed towards the water. The music changes, in sync with the descent. In just a few seconds we are back to just inches above the water, moving fast now towards a jetty that juts out from a deserted yellow -sanded beach, at low tide.
As we speed closer it seems that a collision with the jetty is inevitable. The music builds towards a crescendo, but, at the last moment, we zoom under it, between pylons. No musical crescendo is reached.
The music takes its cue from the drone-recorded images as we fly up over the beach and onto a gloriously green deserted golf course, bathed in late afternoon golden light.
A sedate, lyrical musical passage builds towards another crescendo as we fly directly towards a copse of trees. Again, a collision seems inevitable but we fly fast between two boughs of a tree, just inches to spare on either side, then along a line of trees, weaving between them at dizzying stomach churning speed.
In sync with the music, we shoot up into the sky in a matter of seconds and hover quietly in 100 feet off the ground. The tempo of the music slows, diminishes in volume as we spin 360 degrees, slowly, revealing Barrenjoey headland, Palm Beach and Pittwater Bay in all their glory.
4 EXT. GOLF COURSE. SUNSET
LI NA (known as Leena), 20ish, Chinese- Australian, sits hidden in a copse of trees. She has drone control device in her hand; a laptop computer resting on her lap.
Onscreen, we see the completion of the 360 degree drone pan, settling on a shot of the sun setting over Pittwater. In one ‘window’ onscreen Gabriel, wearing headphones, sits at his synthesizer playing music.
5 INT. ZOOM BOMBER’S BEDROOM. SUNSET
A mid shot of GABRIEL, mid 20’s, long shaggy blonde hair, sitting at his synthesizer in a cluttered space, playing music in sync with the movements of the drone. In one ‘window’ onscreen is the image recorded by the drone: the sun, just about to slip behind the hills on the western aside of Pittwater. The music now is a repeated phrase, building in volume.
In another ‘window’, (seen from the POV of her laptop camera) Li Na, control device in hand, looks directly at Gabriel, nodding her head in sync with the music. She gestures ‘now’ to Gabriel. He increases the speed and tempo of the music, building towards a crescendo. Gabriel then nods vigorously to Li Na, who nods in return.
6 EXT. PITTWATER. SUNSET
As the music builds to a climax, the drone shot tilts from the sunset to the water below. Water fills the fame. As we speed towards the water, so too does the music speed up; intensify. Just as it seems that we will hit the water, Gabriel hits a key on his synth to produce a loud ‘splash’ sound as the frame freezes just inches from the water.
7 EXT. GOLF COURSE. SUNSET
Onscreen we see that the drone is, again, flying at water level. We see Li Na and Gabriel, ecstatic at what they have pulled off, hi-fiving each other; laughing happily.
Suddenly, another ‘window’ opens up onscreen. It is Cammie, up close; smiling happily.
CAMMIE
That was fucking awesome.
Li Na and Zoom Bomber are both shocked.
GABRIEL
Who to fuck are you?
CAMMIE
That’s a question I ask myself a lot. Don’t you? Why am I here?
Li Na speaks with a broad Aussie accent.
LI NA
How the fuck did you get in here. This a secure network.
CAMMIE
There’s no such thing as a secure network, Li Na. No such thing…
LI NA
How the fuck do you know my name?
CAMMIE
I’ve been a fan of your drone work for a while. There’s not much about you I don’t know...
LI NA
My drone work!?
CAMMIE
No such thing as security here in cyber-cowboy-space, Leena, do you mind if I call you Leena? Haven’t you figured that our yet?
Cammie gives Gabriel a double thumbs up.
CAMMIE
And, hey, whoever you are on the synth, you rule. Cool music.
Li Na and Gabriel stare at Cammie in disbelief.
CAMMIE
Welcome to Zoomers TV.
Cammie beams a happy smile.
8 INT. BATHROOM. LI NA’S HOME. DAY
Li Na, wearing different clothes, her hair a different length, the blonde streaks in her hair gone now, looks at the smart phone she holds out in front of her:
LI NA
That’s how I met her. Hurricane Cammie. Wow! Where to begin. Cammie! If only I had known then what I know now about all the stuff she was up to...the Dark web...the mind control...the Hypnosis...all the people she had pissed off. (A BEAT) I don’t even know what the right word is to describe her. (A BEAT) You know, right, that Cammie is short for Chameleon. If this confuses you, as Cammie would say, “Google it.”
The end credits roll over drone shots of deserted beaches, parks, deserted city and suburban streets - the sense of emptiness and desolation counterpointed by upbeat hopeful music.
End of Episode One
