The Retreat

WOLVES-1 EXT. OVERGROWN SUBURBAN STREET - DAY Suburbia plus about six-hundred years of "where'd everyone go?" What was once a pretty little cul-de-sac is overrun by some hardy, broad-leaved vine which covers almost every surface with plant matter that gently blows in the breeze. It's on the fallen power line poles. It climbs up downfallen wires. It clambers up the side of every building, making the strange, rare patches where it doesn't -- due to too-hard a surface, or too much wind, or some other damned thing -- to be anomolous eyes or mouths, spread wide in horror or rictus screams. The street itself isn't much better. It's cracked, there's no doubt, and in places barely detectable as a road. Pieces crumble both on the edges and along the middle, lines long scoured away save in patchy shadows. More than a few places show water erosion from the hard rains that pour through, no longer well drained away. It's not quiet, though. The wi...

EXT. CH-6-FAC-3 - NIGHT The weather is rainy, nasty, just a little too much wind to even consider going out in it at all. The industrial block is just a formless outline against the rain-pouring sky. A sleek, black ship, unmarked, crawls through the winds and the rain. Rather than bounce away, the sheets seek to cling to it, enveloping it, obscuring it. The blunt prow pokes through every once in a while as it slithers forward. Black helmet and black face-mask obscure the pilot's eyes, but she gestures to and with the ship and it slips behind a group of buildings and drops out of line of sight without a murmur over the coursing of the rain. EXT.CH-6-RES-2 LANDING ZONE - CONTINUOUS The ship drifts over the edge of a large, square arco-building with a hollow center nearly filled by a courtyard, playground equipment tucked to the side and clearly not used for a long time. The swings shudder more than they're blown, the ship the size of two city busses side by sid...