Panic Room Page #3

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LYDIA:

Oh, I've seen these...

EVAN:

It's quite in vogue in high end

construction right now. One really

can't be too careful about home

invasion.

The other two walk inside, but Meg lingers near the door,

looking around, studying the neatly arrayed survival supplies

-- water, food packs, batteries, flashlights, tools, rope,

clothes, blankets -- you get the idea.

LYDIA:

Hey, this is perfect for you...

(Meg scoffs)

Absolutely! You're a woman, you're

living alone now. Your alarm goes

off, or you head glass break, or for

whatever reason you think someone's

broken into your home in the middle

of the night. What are you going to

do? Call the police and wait until

they get here on Tuesday? Traipse

downstairs in your sexy little

underthings and check it out? I

think not!

EVAN:

Reinforced steel core walls. Buried

phone line, completely separate, not

connected to the house's main line

and never exposed throughout the

house's infrastructure or outside

the house -- you can call the

police; nobody can cut you off.

Your own ventilation system,

complete with oxygen scrubber, so

you've got plenty of fresh air for

as long as you like. And a bank of

video monitors --

He hits a switch next to a dozen tiny video monitors,

revealing a dozen different views of the house.

EVAN:

-- covering almost every corner of

the house.

Meg nods, starting to sweat.

MEG:

Makes me nervous.

LYDIA:

Why?

MEG:

Ever read any Poe?

LYDIA:

I don't think so, but I love her

album.

MEG:

No, Edgar Allen.

LYDIA:

(thinks)

The furniture guy?

MEG:

(giving up)

What's to keep them from prying open

the door?

Evan reaches past Meg and pushes a red button on the wall

behind her. With a sudden WHANG of steel, a heavy metal door

leaps out of a slot in the wall and SLAMS shut, like a

submarine hatch. A series of metal latches CLICK into place

inside it, from top to bottom, securing it into place.

EVAN:

Steel, four inches thick.

Meg takes a step back. They're now enclosed in the room.

EVAN:

Everything's spring-loaded, even if

the power's out it's fully

functional.

MEG:

Open it.

LYDIA:

Old Bernie didn't miss a trick with

this room, did he?

MEG:

Open the door.

LYDIA:

And with kids like he's got, no

wonder he wanted a place to hide.

EVAN:

That's highly inappropriate.

MEG:

I said open the door.

Evan hits a green button and the door GROANS slowly open,

recoiling its massive spring, and revealing Sarah, the little

girl, standing in the entryway, grinning widely.

SARAH:

My room. Definitely my room.

She bolts in, just as her mother bolts out.

INT. MASTER BEDROOM - DAY

Meg stands just outside the door to the panic room, regaining

her composure. Not crazy about tight spaces. Which we

already knew.

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