THE MATRIX

Written by Larry and Andy Wachowski

April 8, 1996

So close it has no boundaries.

A blinking cursor pulses in the electric darkness like a heart coursing with phosphorous light, burning beneath the derma of black-neon glass.

A PHONE begins to RING, we hear it as though we were making the call. The cursor continues to throb, relentlessly patient, until --

EXT. HOUSING TRACT - NIGHT

Using only its parking lights, the police car creeps up the dirt road between skeletons of unfinished houses.

INT. POLICE CAR - NIGHT

The windows are rolled down. Periodically one of the men Jeans out for a better look at the terrain around them

                                  SECOND OFFICER
                        
                        Smells smoke...

                                    BENNY
                        I told you.