EXT. OAKLAND - RED CROSS BLOOD BANK - NIGHT
GERALD (40, overweight) slugs out of his work building, the last to leave as always. The blood bank has seen better days. He pulls out his work keys and locks up, giving the door a final pull. Satisfied, he walks to his car parked on the street.
Coming from the opposite direction is a Black, skinny HOMELESS MAN with a large beard and a shopping cart full of trash. Gerald GROANS at the sight of him. He picks up the pace, trying to beat him to the car. The homeless man notices Gerald and sticks out his hand.
HOMELESS MAN
Spare change?
GERALD
Piss off!
VOICE (O.S.)
Nah, run them pockets!
Gerald feels something metal poke his back. He turns around to find the barrel of a long gun sticking out of the trash. A MASKED MAN (LAMAR, 23, Black) emerges from under the trash, holding the gun’s other end.
Gerald looks back at the homeless man, who now wears a ski mask and whose fake beard lies on the ground. This is DARIUS (23, Black). Gerald swallows hard and slowly raises his hands.
GERALD
(pulls out wallet)
At least let me keep the car!
LAMAR
Bro, don’t nobody want that old ass Suzuki! The building!
Gerald glances at the Red Cross building.
GERALD
(takes keys out of his pocket)
Here.
LAMAR
You’re funny!
Lamar shoves him toward the entrance. Gerald fumbles with the keys, trying to unlock the door.
LAMAR
My finger’s itching!
Finally, Gerald finds the right key and unlocks the door. FOOM! Darius’s cart shoves Gerald inside.
---
INT. RED CROSS BLOOD BANK - FRONT
They burst through the door. Lamar jumps out of the cart and yanks Gerald off the floor.
LAMAR
Cancel the invitation, fat man!
GERALD
We’re a blood bank! We don’t have that many pre-paid cards on hand!
Lamar cocks the gun at Gerald’s head. Gerald flinches and goes to the security control box, entering a code. The red blinking light turns green.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
DARIUS
We good?
LAMAR
We good!
Suddenly, TEN MASKED MEN rush in with their own carts. Gerald watches in confusion.
LAMAR
Tyrice!
TYRICE (23, Afro-Cuban) enters last. Tall, scarred. Lamar tosses him some rope. Tyrice shoves Gerald to the floor.
DARIUS
90 seconds!
Lamar snatches the keys from Gerald and heads down the hallway with the rest of the men.
---
INT. RED CROSS BLOOD BANK - HALLWAY
Darius sprints down the hallway, stopping at a large double door. He swipes his ID card, unlocking it. The men follow him inside.
---
INT. RED CROSS BLOOD BANK - BLOOD STORAGE ROOM
Darius strides across the icy room toward large metallic cabinets, unlocking them. As the doors swing open, the men stare in awe at rows of blood bags.
Jackpot.
---
INT. RED CROSS BLOOD BANK - FRONT
Gerald sits tied up in a chair with duct tape. Tyrice paces. Gerald chuckles to himself.
GERALD
You morons! We’re all dead.
SMACK! Tyrice slaps him, revealing a tattoo of gold wings on his wrist.
GERALD
…No... You can’t! We’re protected!
---
INT. RED CROSS BLOOD BANK - BLOOD STORAGE ROOM
The men hurriedly load blood bags into coolers while Darius unlocks more cabinets.
DARIUS
Put them in the coolers BEFORE you load the carts!
(checks his watch)
45 seconds!
---
EXT. RED CROSS BLOOD BANK - FRONT
The men rush out with their carts loaded with coolers. They stop, confused, looking around.
DARIUS
Where’s your guy?!
LAMAR
Let me check dick-head tracker.
DARIUS
Lamar, I swear to God—
SKEEEEERRRRRRRR! A WHITE REEFER TRUCK drifts around the corner, screeching to a stop in the lot. The driver hops out, flustered. Lamar charges him.
DRIVER
S-sorry, I got caught in—
WHAM! Lamar punches the driver in the face, knocking him to the ground.
LAMAR
We ain’t delivering pizzas! Back! Now!
The driver scrambles to the back. The men load the coolers into the truck. Darius pulls Lamar aside.
DARIUS
Shit’s gonna spoil! It’s like an oven! And what part of covert made you think “White”?
LAMAR
Guess we should’ve gotten the FBI ice cream truck.
DARIUS
Think, Lamar! Think!
LAMAR
Anything else, ma?
Darius gets in Lamar’s face.
DARIUS
I don’t like risking my ass!
LAMAR
Cut the pussy shit right now or—
SCRRRREEEECCCHH! A loud animal-like screech rips through the night, freezing everyone in place. All eyes turn to the sky.
Beat.
Without a word, the men speed up, dumping what’s left into the truck. Darius jumps into the driver’s seat, Tyrice hops in the middle, and Lamar rides shotgun.
---
INT. RED CROSS BLOOD BANK
Gerald bites frantically at the tape. He frees one arm. SCREECH! The sound makes him work faster, like a coyote trying to gnaw its leg free from a trap. Giant shadows fly down the hallway like hornets. Gerald screams, but they are on him in a flash.
---
EXT. RED CROSS BLOOD BANK
The back door of the truck slams shut. Darius floors the pedal, skidding off down the road.
---
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
The reefer zooms down the street.
---
INT. REEFER - BACK
The men prep handguns, AKs, and a machine gun. They strap on body armor with silver crosses embedded on the front and back. Some pour water into bottles, sealing them, while others pour seasoning into grenade-like bombs labeled “Garlic Powder.”
---
INT. REEFER - FRONT
Lamar loads a handgun with strange bullets, the tips made of wood.
LAMAR
Clear?
THUMP! A loud bump rocks the truck. Darius adjusts the side mirror to see a GHOUL clinging to the truck’s side, its claws dug into the metal. Its gigantic, soulless black eyes glare back at him. It screams, revealing a mouth full of razor-sharp spikes, bat wings flexing.
DARIUS
Just some “Top Flight security.”