The Four AM Transit Schedule
For Shiro, a former getaway driver trying to live a quiet life, driving a late-night bus is a kind of penance. But when a bleeding figure from his past gets on board carrying a bag of trouble, his route takes an unscheduled detour into the life he tried so desperately to leave behind.
Title: The Four AM Transit Schedule
[SCENE START]
**INT. CITY BUS - NIGHT**
SOUND of a low engine hum, the rhythmic THUMP-THUMP of tires over expansion joints, the weary buzz of fluorescent lights
The world outside the vast windscreen is a silent film of SODIUM-ORANGE light and deep, empty shadow. Deserted streets. Sleeping concrete.
Inside, the light is a sickly GREENISH-WHITE. It illuminates rows of empty, cracked vinyl seats. Scuffs on the floor. A universe of grime.
SHIRO (40s), stoic and weary, sits behind the wheel. His hands are steady, his movements economical. He is a man seeking refuge in monotony. This is his sanctuary. His penance.
He glances at the large rearview mirror. It reflects the long, empty aisle of the bus.
Except for one passenger.
Near the back, NANA (50s) sits perfectly poised. Sharp features, a tailored coat. She reads a book, seemingly oblivious to the world.
The bus SIGHS and HISSES to a stop at a desolate corner where industrial nowhere meets residential decay.
The doors WHEEZE open.
A MAN stumbles on. This is KENNY O'CONNELL (40s), a man whose luck is always running out. He clutches his side. His jacket is dark with something wet. He collapses into the seat directly behind Shiro.
A heavy DUFFEL BAG drops to the floor with a THUD.
Kenny breathes in ragged, painful gasps.
KENNY
> (Wheezing)
> Shiro? Bloody hell, is that you?
Shiro’s eyes flick to the rearview mirror. Nana hasn't looked up from her book.
SHIRO
> Keep your voice down.
He pulls the bus away from the curb, the motion smooth, practiced.
SHIRO
> (CONT'D)
> What happened to you?
KENNY
> A business negotiation went south. The other party had a stronger closing argument.
> (Coughs, a wet sound)
> You gotta... you gotta help me, Shiro. Just get me to the docks.
SHIRO
> I don't do that anymore, Kenny. I drive the Number 14 loop. The docks aren't on my route.
KENNY
> Make 'em on your route!
> (He gestures to the bag)
> There's... there's enough in this bag for both of us. A new life. You and me, mate. Like the old days.
SHIRO
> (Hissing)
> The 'old days' are why I'm driving a bus, you idiot.
Shiro’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel. His calm, predictable world is cracking apart.
IN THE REARVIEW MIRROR - A pair of headlights. Far back, but moving with purpose. A black saloon. No taxi light. It was parked across from the bus stop.
The old familiar tightening in Shiro’s gut. The cold calculus of speed, distance, escape routes... it floods his mind, overwriting the transit schedule.
SHIRO
> They followed you.
It's not a question. Kenny twists in his seat, looks back through the grimy rear window.
KENNY
> Ah, hell.
SHIRO
> You brought this to my bus? My job?
KENNY
> I didn't have a choice! Where else was I gonna go?
Shiro glances in the mirror again.
His eyes meet Nana's.
She has finally looked up from her book. Her gaze is unnervingly calm, intelligent, analytical. She holds his gaze for a beat.
Then, she gives a subtle, almost imperceptible NOD.
Permission.
The black car is gaining.
SHIRO
> Hang on.
He SLAMS the accelerator. The big engine ROARS. He wrenches the wheel hard right.
**EXT. CITY STREET - CONTINUOUS**
The bus lurches, its tires SCREAMING in protest as it swings off its designated route and down a narrow side street.
**INT. CITY BUS - CONTINUOUS**
Kenny is thrown against the window. He YELPS.
KENNY
> This isn't the route!
SHIRO
> The route's been cancelled due to unforeseen idiots bleeding all over my floor.
In the back, Nana remains perfectly poised. She braces herself with one hand, as if experiencing mild turbulence. She watches Shiro with detached curiosity.
The black saloon, more nimble, stays right on their tail.
Shiro’s eyes dart around, processing, calculating. He spots a laneway up ahead, used for rubbish collection. Impossibly narrow.
KENNY
> This is a bad idea.
SHIRO
> I've had worse.
He wrenches the wheel again.
**EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS**
The front of the bus ploughs into the alley.
SOUND of METAL SCREECHING and SCREAMING against brick.
Sparks fly. Rubbish bins are tossed aside like toys. The bus scrapes, groans, and wedges itself tight between the two buildings. A perfect, immovable roadblock.
The bus SHUDDERS to a halt.
**INT. CITY BUS - CONTINUOUS**
Shiro is already out of his seat. He grabs Kenny by the collar.
SHIRO
> Out. Now. Back door.
He half-drags, half-carries the groaning Kenny to the rear exit and kicks the emergency door open.
**EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS**
They stumble out into another street.
Behind them, the ANGRY HORN of the blocked saloon BLARES. They've bought themselves minutes.
SHIRO
> This way.
He pulls Kenny into the mouth of a dark pedestrian tunnel.
As they are about to be swallowed by the darkness, Shiro glances back one last time.
HIS POV -
Nana steps calmly off the bus. She adjusts her tailored coat. She looks at the wedged bus, then down the street towards the trapped car.
No panic. No surprise.
She watches them go, a thoughtful expression on her face.
Then she turns and walks away in the opposite direction, disappearing into the pre-dawn gloom.
Shiro turns and follows Kenny into the black.
[SCENE END]
[SCENE START]
**INT. CITY BUS - NIGHT**
SOUND of a low engine hum, the rhythmic THUMP-THUMP of tires over expansion joints, the weary buzz of fluorescent lights
The world outside the vast windscreen is a silent film of SODIUM-ORANGE light and deep, empty shadow. Deserted streets. Sleeping concrete.
Inside, the light is a sickly GREENISH-WHITE. It illuminates rows of empty, cracked vinyl seats. Scuffs on the floor. A universe of grime.
SHIRO (40s), stoic and weary, sits behind the wheel. His hands are steady, his movements economical. He is a man seeking refuge in monotony. This is his sanctuary. His penance.
He glances at the large rearview mirror. It reflects the long, empty aisle of the bus.
Except for one passenger.
Near the back, NANA (50s) sits perfectly poised. Sharp features, a tailored coat. She reads a book, seemingly oblivious to the world.
The bus SIGHS and HISSES to a stop at a desolate corner where industrial nowhere meets residential decay.
The doors WHEEZE open.
A MAN stumbles on. This is KENNY O'CONNELL (40s), a man whose luck is always running out. He clutches his side. His jacket is dark with something wet. He collapses into the seat directly behind Shiro.
A heavy DUFFEL BAG drops to the floor with a THUD.
Kenny breathes in ragged, painful gasps.
KENNY
> (Wheezing)
> Shiro? Bloody hell, is that you?
Shiro’s eyes flick to the rearview mirror. Nana hasn't looked up from her book.
SHIRO
> Keep your voice down.
He pulls the bus away from the curb, the motion smooth, practiced.
SHIRO
> (CONT'D)
> What happened to you?
KENNY
> A business negotiation went south. The other party had a stronger closing argument.
> (Coughs, a wet sound)
> You gotta... you gotta help me, Shiro. Just get me to the docks.
SHIRO
> I don't do that anymore, Kenny. I drive the Number 14 loop. The docks aren't on my route.
KENNY
> Make 'em on your route!
> (He gestures to the bag)
> There's... there's enough in this bag for both of us. A new life. You and me, mate. Like the old days.
SHIRO
> (Hissing)
> The 'old days' are why I'm driving a bus, you idiot.
Shiro’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel. His calm, predictable world is cracking apart.
IN THE REARVIEW MIRROR - A pair of headlights. Far back, but moving with purpose. A black saloon. No taxi light. It was parked across from the bus stop.
The old familiar tightening in Shiro’s gut. The cold calculus of speed, distance, escape routes... it floods his mind, overwriting the transit schedule.
SHIRO
> They followed you.
It's not a question. Kenny twists in his seat, looks back through the grimy rear window.
KENNY
> Ah, hell.
SHIRO
> You brought this to my bus? My job?
KENNY
> I didn't have a choice! Where else was I gonna go?
Shiro glances in the mirror again.
His eyes meet Nana's.
She has finally looked up from her book. Her gaze is unnervingly calm, intelligent, analytical. She holds his gaze for a beat.
Then, she gives a subtle, almost imperceptible NOD.
Permission.
The black car is gaining.
SHIRO
> Hang on.
He SLAMS the accelerator. The big engine ROARS. He wrenches the wheel hard right.
**EXT. CITY STREET - CONTINUOUS**
The bus lurches, its tires SCREAMING in protest as it swings off its designated route and down a narrow side street.
**INT. CITY BUS - CONTINUOUS**
Kenny is thrown against the window. He YELPS.
KENNY
> This isn't the route!
SHIRO
> The route's been cancelled due to unforeseen idiots bleeding all over my floor.
In the back, Nana remains perfectly poised. She braces herself with one hand, as if experiencing mild turbulence. She watches Shiro with detached curiosity.
The black saloon, more nimble, stays right on their tail.
Shiro’s eyes dart around, processing, calculating. He spots a laneway up ahead, used for rubbish collection. Impossibly narrow.
KENNY
> This is a bad idea.
SHIRO
> I've had worse.
He wrenches the wheel again.
**EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS**
The front of the bus ploughs into the alley.
SOUND of METAL SCREECHING and SCREAMING against brick.
Sparks fly. Rubbish bins are tossed aside like toys. The bus scrapes, groans, and wedges itself tight between the two buildings. A perfect, immovable roadblock.
The bus SHUDDERS to a halt.
**INT. CITY BUS - CONTINUOUS**
Shiro is already out of his seat. He grabs Kenny by the collar.
SHIRO
> Out. Now. Back door.
He half-drags, half-carries the groaning Kenny to the rear exit and kicks the emergency door open.
**EXT. ALLEYWAY - CONTINUOUS**
They stumble out into another street.
Behind them, the ANGRY HORN of the blocked saloon BLARES. They've bought themselves minutes.
SHIRO
> This way.
He pulls Kenny into the mouth of a dark pedestrian tunnel.
As they are about to be swallowed by the darkness, Shiro glances back one last time.
HIS POV -
Nana steps calmly off the bus. She adjusts her tailored coat. She looks at the wedged bus, then down the street towards the trapped car.
No panic. No surprise.
She watches them go, a thoughtful expression on her face.
Then she turns and walks away in the opposite direction, disappearing into the pre-dawn gloom.
Shiro turns and follows Kenny into the black.
[SCENE END]