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The ninth round of the Industry Insider Screenwriting Competition took place in the Spring of 2014,
bringing in almost 1,000 entries that were eventually narrowed down to 10 Finalists. We are happy to
be able to share with you the First 15 Pages of the Finalists' scripts based on Sheldon Turners
logline:
A corrupt detective with one month left to live tries to make all the wrongs right in a wobbly
road to redemption, becoming the cop and the person they always wanted to be in the
process.
Top 10 Finalists:

The Fragile Satisfaction of Us and Them by Patrick Curran (WINNER)

"The Chronicles of Alestair Cade by Russell Ward

Deadline by Mollie Reeder

The 11th Hour by David Kushner & Joshua Bullock

Thirty Days to Life by Dave Merlino & Dustin Sweet

Disjecta Membra by J. Weiman

Blood Moon by Rich Figel

The Back Pages by Lori Stansal

The Last Round by Kosta Kondilopoulos

Blood of the Butcher by Paul Clarke

CLICK HERE TO ENTER THE CURRENT ROUND OF THE CONTEST

If you are an Industry Professional and have interest in reading any of the completed scripts, please
contact Sadie Dean at The Writers Store.
Due to the subject matter, please be advised that some of the material in the pages available for download may be
inappropriate for children.
The Writers Store www.WritersStore.com 3510 W. Magnolia Blvd. | Burbank, CA | 91505 800.272.8927

THE FRAGILE SATISFACTIONS OF US AND THEM

By
Patrick Curran

'Think you're escaping and run

into yourself. Longest way round
is the shortest way home.'
-James Joyce

FADE IN:
INT. ENGLAND - MANCHESTER - MOSS SIDE PROJECTS - DAWN (1988)
Bubbling mold lines the edges of a leak-stained ceiling.
Peeling paint hangs off the cold, damp walls. Smoke plumes
from a cigarette in a crowded ashtray on a tattered sofa.
Two BOMBERS (20s) in combat jackets and heavy boots track
muddy footprints across a matted rug on creaky wood floors.
MICK DOYLE (38), a broad-shouldered, brooding man, sips tea,
eats toast over an aluminum tray filled with C-4 composite
explosives attached to a plastic detonation device as-IMAGES flicker in Micks mind: the fluorescent lights of a
cinema marquis reads: Alfred Hitchcocks THE BIRDS. A BIG
BROTHER (15) flaps his arms like an evil seagull, chases a
laughing LITTLE BROTHER (13) through crowded city streets.
Back in the kitchen, the two bombers cross through the room
again, this time struggling with a heavy, fifty-gallon steel
drum barrel, before disappearing out the back door.
INT. MOSS SIDE PROJECTS - BEDROOM - LATER
Mick stands at a mirror, steps into a police uniform, combs
back his greasy black hair, pins officer decorations to his
jacket, fixes his tie, pops a police helmet on his head as-more IMAGES fill Micks mind: the BROTHERS kick rocks up a
dark, empty street. Ahead, two BANK GUARDS fill a truck with
bags of money. The guards turn, spot the boys.
Back in the bedroom, theres a knock at the door. Bomber #1,
in a thick Irish accent, calls out from the other side.
BOMBER #1 (O.S.)
Were ready fer ya, Mick.
INT. MOSS SIDE PROJECTS - SITTING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER
The two bombers, now in matching tuxedoes, rip city maps,
photographs and blueprints off the walls. Mick steps in,
falls to one knee and bows his head. His men follow suit.
MICK
Christ be with us, be after and
before us, be at our right and our
left hands. May everything we do
be for Christ. And for Ireland.

2.
EXT. MOSS SIDE PROJECTS - DRIVEWAY - LATER
Under cover of heavy rain, Mick moves to a marked police
cruiser, hops inside, starts the engine and pulls away.
Micks bombers, carrying the aluminum trays, rush to a
catering truck parked behind the house. The side of the
truck reads: Chorley Commons Catering.
The bombers slide the trays into a rolling rack in the bed of
the truck. Behind the rack, forty steel-drum barrels sit
tied to cases of bomb-grade fertilizer, ammonium nitrate and
sacks of jagged shrapnel.
Between the two walls of explosives, a fuse runs from each
barrel to a detonation device on the floor of the truck bed.
Micks bombers slam the truck doors shut and climb into the
cab. The truck disappears down the driveway.
INT. MANCHESTER - DIDSBURY - TOWNHOUSE - BEDROOM - MORNING
Vaulted ceilings highlight vintage crown moulding. Oak
dressers sit below brass-plated picture frames hanging on the
walls. Theres an elegance about the place.
At the door to a bedroom stands YOUNG LINDSAY ASHE (5), a
round-faced, red-cheeked, curious girl in a yellow dress.
Her tiny socks slide around on the polished wood floors.
Lindsay watches her father, HENRY ASHE (32), an attractive,
clean-cut man, who dresses into his own Manchester City
police uniform at a mirror on the wall.
Down the hall, EMILY ASHE (30), Lindsays mother, calls out
in an English accent.
EMILY (O.S.)
Henry, I cant find Lindsays
shoes!
Henry spots Lindsay in the mirror and shrugs, slides her
tiny, red patent-leather shoes into his pockets.
HENRY
I havent seen them, darling.
Henry winks at his daughter through the mirror.
throws a hand over her mouth, stifles a giggle.

Lindsay

3.
EXT. MANCHESTER - DOWNTOWN - CITY STREETS - LATER
The catering truck comes to a stop at a traffic light.
Bomber #1 checks his watch, Bomber #2 rolls down his window.
A police cruiser pulls up beside the truck. Bomber #2 peers
down, expecting its Mick. It isnt. A POLICE OFFICER peers
up at the men in the truck. The bombers share a long-winded
stare with him before-Bomber #2 waves down to the police officer.
officer hesitates, then returns the gesture.

The police

The traffic light turns green and the police cruiser pulls
through the intersection. Micks bombers breathe deep.
EXT. DOWNTOWN - TOWN HALL - PARKING LOT - LATER
Manchester Town Hall, a Gothic, Victorian-age building, looms
under low-hanging clouds and heavy rain.
SUPER: Manchester, England.

March, 1988.

Mick scans the heavy traffic, his memory flooded with-more IMAGES: the GUARDS and two SNIPERS, who appear with
large rifles on the rooftop of the bank, shout at the
brothers down the street.
Get down!

GUARDS AND SNIPERS

Down on the ground!

-Mick snaps out of it, directs a long queue of cars waiting

at the entrance of a parking lot in front of the town hall.
INT. TOWN HALL - HENRYS CAR - LATER
Lindsay watches the busy wipers swing back and forth on
Henrys rear windshield.
YOUNG LINDSAY
Are they all here to see Daddy?
EMILY
Yer dad did a very brave thing,
everybody wants a chance to say
thanks.
Suddenly, a motorcade of black town cars whizz past Lindsay
and disappear into an alley at the front of the town hall.
Lindsay watches them go.

4.
HENRY (O.S.)
Are ya wearin yer seat belt?
Lindsay huffs, buckles her seat belt. Their car lurches
forward in line. Moments later, Micks bombers pull the
catering truck behind them and into the queue.
EXT. TOWN HALL - PARKING LOT - MOMENTS LATER
Mick spots the catering truck and dashes across the busy lot,
waves the truck out of the queue. He steps in front of a
moving car, then BANG-more IMAGES: the big brother pushes his little brother out
of the street. The little brother covers up, holds his hands
tight over his ears. His world spins, he cries out.
The big brother holds his little brothers face, whispers:
BIG BROTHER
Dont be scared, Michael.
The little brother settles.

Then-

-the car screeches to a stop. Mick, panicked, throws his

hands in front of him, crashes onto the hood of the car. The
drivers window lowers. Its a UNIFORMED POLICE OFFICER.
UNIFORMED POLICE OFFICER
Mate, Im sorry. Are yalright?
Mick takes inventory, collects himself.
Aye, yeah.

Then:

MICK
Im fine.

The men exchange a long look. Theres something about Mick

the officer doesnt like. Finally:
UNIFORMED OFFICER
Where dya want me to leave it?
MICK
(in an English accent)
Straight to the back, pull as close
to the next bumper as you can.
Mick dashes across the lot, waves the truck ahead. The
uniformed police officer pulls his car into the lot.

5.
EXT. TOWN HALL - ALLEY - MOMENTS LATER
The catering truck pulls up to a cement barricade blocking
the entrance to the town hall alley. A SECURITY OFFICER
waves the truck off. Mick approaches.
MICK
Caterings got a delivery.
SECURITY OFFICER
Not with the Prime Minister comin
in, bring em around the front.
The security officer calls up to the driver.
SECURITY OFFICER (CONTD)
This areas restricted, follow him.
Mick watches an entourage of SECURITY usher the PRIME
MINISTER (63), a big-haired, pious-looking woman, inside.
Mick waves the truck around and doubles back towards the
parking lot. The truck follows.
INT. TOWN HALL - THE GREAT HALL - LATER
Towering granite columns showcase elaborate murals in the
giant hall. A stage features a Union Jack flag, a podium, a
row of lavish, velvet chairs.
BBC CAMERA CREWS set up lights and equipment at the foot of
the stage. Smartly-dressed DISTINGUISHED GUESTS sit in rows
stretching to the back of the hall.
SECURITY GUARDS lead the Prime Minister towards the stage.
The guests welcome her with polite applause.
Lindsay, Henry and Emily step into the hall and are greeted
by UNCLE JACK CHESTER (34), Henrys partner and the
uniformed police officer who almost hit Mick with his car.
Uncle Jack throws Henry a hesitant, slightly distressed, nod.
HENRY
Jackie, yalright?
UNCLE JACK
Aye, Im fine. Just a bit shook up
is all, nearly ran some poor chap
down outside.
Uncle Jack and Henry embrace.

6.
UNCLE JACK (CONTD)
Congrats, ya old sod.
Uncle Jack kisses Emilys cheek, spots Lindsay hiding behind
her mom. He pretends not to notice.
UNCLE JACK (CONTD)
Delighted to see ya left the little
monster at home.
Then, Lindsay pops out and roars like a lion. Uncle Jack
recoils, his charm as obvious as his child-like playfulness.
Afraid shed really frightened him, Lindsay moves to Uncle
Jack.
YOUNG LINDSAY
Its me Uncle Jack, its just me!
Suddenly, Uncle Jack pounces at Lindsay, roars like a lion
himself. Lindsay screams, makes a run for it, disappears.
EMILY
Lovely, thanks Jackie.
Uncle Jack smiles, shrugs.
INSPECTOR BARLOW (58), Henry and Uncle Jacks boss, a stout,
jovial man with a bushy moustache, approaches.
INSPECTOR BARLOW
Theyll give the George Cross away
to just about anybody these days.
UNCLE JACK
How many must you have by now?
Inspector Barlow laughs, swallows Henry and Uncle Jack up in
a bear-hug.
INSPECTOR BARLOW
Were ready fer ya, lads.
Henry kisses Emily.
EMILY
Dont slouch, the Queenll be
watchin.
EXT. TOWN HALL - PARKING LOT - FRONT STEPS - LATER
Mick keeps watch at the back of the truck as Micks bombers
rush the aluminum trays up the front steps of the town hall.

7.
INT. TOWN HALL - THE GREAT HALL - MOMENTS LATER
The bombers, in their tuxedoes, slide the aluminum trays into
a warming rack beside a reception table. Bomber #1 reaches
into the explosives tray and flips a switch, arms the bomb.
The bombers scan the crowd, then the stage. Their eyes land
on the Prime Minister and stay on her. They watch her, cold
and calculated, resolute.
A TUXEDOED SERVER spots the bombers staring.
notice, peel off.

The bombers

Inspector Barlow addresses the crowd from the podium.

INSPECTOR BARLOW
For acts of heroism in the face of
extreme danger, its my honor to
present the George Cross to Officer
Henry AsheHenry steps forward. Inspector Barlow pins the George Cross
on his jacket, then shakes his hand.
INSPECTOR BARLOW (CONTD)
-and Officer John Chester.
Uncle Jack steps forward. Inspector Barlow pins a second
George Cross on Uncle Jacks jacket, shakes his hand.
The crowd rise to their feet and explode in applause.
Henry scans the crowd, finds Lindsay in Emilys arms.
wave to him, Henry waves back.

They

Suddenly, the Prime Minister and her security guards make for
a door at the back of the hall. Micks bombers watch them
escape and, panicked, dip out the front doors themselves.
EXT. TOWN HALL - PARKING LOT - MOMENTS LATER
Mick stands watch at the hood of the truck. The SECURITY
OFFICER from the alley barricade approaches.
SECURITY OFFICER
Ceremonys nearly finished, get
these fellas to move this thing.
MICK
Aye, yeah. Cant be too careful
with the Prime Minister in town.

8.
SECURITY OFFICER
Shes just left, escaped out the
back without incident, thank God.
Mick turns white as a ghost.
SECURITY OFFICER (CONTD)
Get em out of here, ya hear me?
The security officer takes off across the parking lot.
Micks bombers approach the truck.
BOMBER #1
Shes gone Mick, what do we do?
Micks mind races as-still more FLASHING IMAGES:
the little brother.

the big brother turns back to

BIG BROTHER
Were only boys, their fight is not
with us.
The big brother throws his hands up in the air, steps into
the street. He smiles.
Ya see?
A shot fires.
small casket.

BIG BROTHER (CONTD)

PARENTS, weeping, hold the little brother. A

The little brother wears a black tie. Tears.

Back in the parking lot, Micks eyes fill with rage.

Mick?!

BOMBER #1 (O.S.)

MICK
Prep the truck.
BOMBER #2
Did ya hear me? Shes gone, mate!
MICK
I said prep the truck.
INT. TOWN HALL - THE GREAT HALL - MOMENTS LATER
Tuxedoed SERVERS lay the aluminum trays out on the reception
table as distinguished guests scurry to the back of the hall.

9.
EXT. TOWN HALL - FRONT DOORS - LATER
Cameras flash around Henry and Uncle Jack with Inspector
Barlow and the MAYOR OF MANCHESTER outside the town hall.
Emily fights her way through the crowd to Henry, falls into
his arms. They kiss. Lindsay, ever adventurous, slips away.
Lindsays mom moves to stop her, when:
HENRY
Its alright, let her have a look.
EXT. TOWN HALL - PARKING LOT - MOMENTS LATER
Lindsay reads Chorley Commons Catering on the side of the
truck. Her eyes wander. She spots the bombers sitting in
the cab of the truck.
Lindsays eyes wander again, eyes Mick standing at the hood
of the truck.
YOUNG LINDSAY
Is this yer truck?
Mick ignores her.

Lindsay approaches.

YOUNG LINDSAY (CONTD)

Excuse me, is this your truck?
Nothing.
YOUNG LINDSAY (CONTD)
Ive been to Chorley, my Nan lives
there. Where does your Nan live?
Still nothing.

Lindsay studies Mick, then:

YOUNG LINDSAY (CONTD)

I like yer boots.
MICK
Get out of here, girl.

Go on!

YOUNG LINDSAY
Im waiting for my dad. He did a
very brave thing.
Mick, like a man possessed, spins around to Lindsay.
MICK
Run, fast as ya can, like yer life
depends on it. Do ya understand?!

10.
Mick waves to his bombers in the cab and disappears to the
back of the truck. Lindsay watches him go.
At the back of the truck, the security officer appears over
Micks shoulder.
SECURITY OFFICER
I told ya to move these lads out of
here!
Suddenly, Mick draws a pistol from under his jacket and whips
the security officer across the face. The officer hits the
pavement hard.
Lindsay, terrified, covers up beside the hood of the truck.
INT. CATERING TRUCK - CAB - CONTINUOUS
Micks bombers pull ski masks down over their faces, rip off
the truck seats and pull out three, high-powered M-16 rifles.
INT. TOWN HALL - THE GREAT HALL - CONTINUOUS
A SERVER pulls the top off of an aluminum tray. Inside, the
detonation device on the explosives blinks wildly. The
servers eyes widen.
EXT. TOWN HALL - PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS
The bombers toss a ski mask to Mick, who throws it on.
Bomber #1 carries a detonator.
MICK
Blast one, go!
Bomber #1 pulls a switch on the detonator.
EXT. TOWN HALL - FRONT DOORS - CONTINUOUS
A violent eruption rocks the town hall from inside. Fire
explodes from the windows, glass shatters, bodies drop to the
pavement. Screaming ensues.
Frightened GUESTS rush out of the town hall. Inspector
Barlow cries out, writhes wildly in a pool of his own blood.
The scene is utter chaos.
Henry, covered in ash, helps Emily to her feet, then scans
the crowd below. His only thought: Lindsay. Yellow dress,
yellow dress... Nothing.

11.
Uncle Jack fights to his feet.
UNCLE JACK
Ill secure the scene, get yer
girls out of here.
Uncle Jack races inside.
Lindsay?!?

EMILY

Emily, distraught, darts off the top steps and into the
stampede of screaming guests running for their lives.
EXT. PARKING LOT - POLICE CRUISER - CONTINUOUS
Mick and the bombers charge across the parking lot to Micks
police cruiser, toss their rifles in the trunk.
Something stops Mick. He turns back to the chaos spewing
across the parking lot, spots Lindsay huddled over by the
hood of the catering truck.
Mick watches Lindsay screaming, her head hidden between her
knees, her hands pressed tight against her ears. She looks
just like the terrified little brother in Micks flashbacks.
BOMBER #2 (O.S.)
Mick, we gotta go!
Suddenly, Mick darts back across the parking lot towards the
town hall. Towards Lindsay.
EXT. PARKING LOT - CATERING TRUCK - CONTINUOUS
Lindsay holds herself tight. Mick rushes to her, tries to
shake her loose. He screams at her in a thick Irish accent.
MICK
Can ya hear me?
Lindsays frozen.
MICK (CONTD)
Dya want to go to Chorley, see yer
nan? Wouldya like that?
Lindsay comes out of it, nods. Mick grabs Lindsay and
cradles her in his arms, turns back to his men in the police
cruiser and makes a run for it.

12.
EXT. TOWN HALL - FRONT DOORS - CONTINUOUS
Henry spots Lindsays yellow dress in Micks arms running
from the scene. Like a man possessed, he charges off the top
steps in hot pursuit.
EXT. PARKING LOT - POLICE CRUISER - CONTINUOUS
The bombers watch Mick, with Lindsay in tow, running back to
the police cruiser. They fire up the engine of the car.
BOMBER #2
Blast two, go!BOMBER #1
-Hes too close to the truck!-Do it!

BOMBER #2

EXT. PARKING LOT - CATERING TRUCK - CONTINUOUS

Emily spots Henry race past her at the bottom of the town
hall steps. She moves to follow. They round the truck, spot
Lindsay in Micks arms and call out.
Lindsay!!!

HENRY AND EMILY

Lindsay peers over Micks shoulder and spots her parents.

She opens her mouth to scream back whenEXT. PARKING LOT - CATERING TRUCK - CONTINUOUS
-the catering truck explodes. A plume of gas erupts from the
bottom steps of the town hall. Cars fly up in the air, the
face of the town hall falls violently. Everything is gone.
EXT. PARKING LOT - POLICE CRUISER - MOMENTS LATER
Mick, unconscious, lies face down on the pavement. Shards of
shrapnel in his back begin to bleed. Micks bombers appear
and drag Mick away.
Lindsay lies on the cold pavement beneath where Mick had
fallen, her eyes open, her mouth agape, her ears bleeding.
Shes in shock and shes alone.

13.
BLACKOUT.
OVER BLACK:
A NEWS ANCHOR reads her copy of the breaking news.
NEWS ANCHOR (V.O.)
Eight dead and a city center
reduced to rubble this morning
after two bombs detonated at a
medal presentation in Manchester.
FADE TO:
EXT. MANCHESTER - TOWN HALL - PARKING LOT - EVENING
Ambulance lights swirl around the collapsed facade of the
town hall. On the pavement below, PARAMEDICS close the
zippers on body bags.
NEWS ANCHOR (V.O.)
The ceremony was held in honor of
two local intelligence officers
who, just two months ago, uncovered
an IRA plot to assassinate the
Prime Minister.
INT. IRISH SEA - FISHING BOAT - CABIN - NIGHT
Mick, lying on his belly, takes violent swigs from a bottle
of whiskey. Stood over him, one of Micks bombers pulls
pieces of shrapnel from his back with rusty pliers.
NEWS ANCHOR (V.O.)
The South Armagh Brigade, a
paramilitary sect of the Irish
Republican Army, is claiming credit
for the attack. The bombers,
disguised as event caterers, fled
the scene and are still at large.
INT. MANCHESTER - HOPE HOSPITAL - CONTINUOUS
Uncle Jack, covered in blood, sits beside a hospital bed
where Lindsay, her head wrapped in gauze, clings to life.
NEWS ANCHOR (V.O.)
Among the deceased: hero Officer
Henry Ashe and his wife Emily. A
consultant at Hope Hospital said
most of the severely wounded-

14.
INT. HOPE HOSPITAL - OPERATING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Frenzied DOCTORS operate on Inspector Barlow.
NEWS ANCHOR (V.O.)
-are suffering from severe
pulmonary contusions and violent
shrapnel wounds. The prognosis of
the survivors remains unknown.
INT. BELFAST - KELLYS CELLARS PUB - BAR - DAYS LATER
A massive Irish flag hangs over a dusty, oversized mirror
behind the bar. Mick and his bombers step inside. The crowd
erupts in riotous applause.
NEWS ANCHOR (V.O.)
The Prime Minister, who left the
ceremony only minutes before the
blasts, called the attack a
deplorable display of cowardice
that the world will regard with
disgust and contempt.
Micks eyes fall on a priest, FR. FRANCIS (50), sitting away
from the crowd at the end of the bar. Mick smiles, nods.
Fr. Francis acknowledges Mick, looks away. Mick, fragile,
moves through the crowd, struggles to conceal his injuries.
INT. MANCHESTER - UNCLE JACKS APARTMENT - WEEKS LATER
Uncle Jack rolls Lindsay, sitting in a wheelchair, her head
wrapped in gauze, into her new bedroom.
Stuffed animals sit perched on a pull-out sofa draped in a
pink comforter. The name Lindsay glistens in glitter on a
poster over the makeshift bed.
Uncle Jack lifts Lindsay out of her wheelchair, tucks her
into bed and moves to the door. Uncle Jack reaches for the
light. Lindsay wails, cries out.
Uncle Jack turns back into the room.
from the light switch.

Lindsay waves him away

NEWS ANCHOR (V.O.)

Our deepest sympathies to the
families in Manchester. More on
todays tragedy as details become
available.

15.
Uncle Jack leaves.

Lindsay turns over in bed and cries.

FADE TO:

EXT. NORTHERN IRELAND - BELFAST - ARDOYNE - MORNING (2014)

Birds chirp, flowers bloom and the morning sun rises over a
sleepy, stone-cobbled street.
GARBAGE MEN toss overflowing bins into the back of a truck.
A mangy dog stalks the ground for scraps.
DECLAN (15), a paper boy, fills a newspaper dispenser with
the morning edition.
SUPER: Belfast, Northern Ireland.

Twenty-five years later.

INT. ARDOYNE - MICKS HOUSE - KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

A tea kettle screams wildly on a stove top. A callus-covered
hand pours scalding water into a porcelain cup, swirls around
a tea bag. The hand butters toast, spreads jam.
The same hand soaks a towel in the boiling water, raises it
to his face. Its Mick (65), now an old, salty dog. Sweat
explodes on Micks brow. He dabs himself with the hot towel.
Micks furrowed brow looms over tired, sunken eyes. His hair
is grey, his skin sags, his belly hangs over his belt. The
years have not been kind.
EXT. MICKS HOUSE - DRIVEWAY - MOMENTS LATER
Declan moves down the driveway of a brick townhouse, its lawn
overwhelmed by weeds. Leaves clog the drains over the front
door. Moss-covered shingles hang from the crumbling roof.
Declan reaches for a newspaper, peers up to a window at the
front of the house and calls out.
DECLAN
Mick, are ya dead?
Moments later, a light in the window over the front door
flickers on and off, on and off.
INT. MICKS HOUSE - BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS
Mick taps his bathroom light on and off, moves to the mirror.

THE CHRONICLES OF ALESTAIR CADE

Written by
Russell Ward

EXT. BARREN WASTELAND - NIGHT

A scrawny rabbit struggles to free itself from a snare trap.
YOUNG FEMALE VOICE
It wasnt always like this.
The rabbit thrashes. Eyes wide with terror as a pair of grimy
bare feet approach. Then ankles. Scrawny, dirt covered legs.
A delicate hand, crusted with filth, reaches out for the
rabbit. Ever so gently, the hand rests on the rabbit's back.
YOUNG FEMALE VOICE (CONTD)
In the stories our Housemother
tells us at night, the people
didn't always live in the camps.
There was plenty of food.
The rabbit struggles to flee as the hand strokes its fur. The
wire snare digs into the rabbit's flesh.
YOUNG FEMALE VOICE (CONTD)
Its supposed to be like that in
the Safe Zone. Some people even
keep animals as pets.
The hand grasps the rabbit by the scruff of the neck. A
second hand loosens and removes the snare.
The rabbit wiggles, frantic as it is lifted up to meet the
gentle gaze of -ALMA, a girl in her mid-teens. A survivor. Covered in grime.
Dressed in rags. Cropped hair. Barcode tattoo on her neck.
We see that she is speaking directly to the rabbit.
ALMA / YOUNG FEMALE VOICE
Theres so much food there, people
throw it away like trash.
Alma pulls a handful of wilted stems from a pocket. She
offers them to the rabbit.
Starvation trumps fear. The rabbit chews.
Alma's eyes focus in the distance. The gentleness disappears.
ALMA
But those are just stories.
With the lightning quick twist of her hand, Alma SNAPS the
rabbits neck.

2.
INT. ABANDONED OFFICE BUILDING - NIGHT
A mans calloused hand tunes the dial of an old AM radio. The
calming voice of THE HOUSEMOTHER emerges from the static.
HOUSEMOTHER (V.O.)
... non-evolved citizens should
report to their local resettlement
camp for immediate evaluation...
The light from the radios power indicator reflects in the
pale reptilian eyes of ALESTAIR CADE, Wasteland Detective.
Smooth features. Almost human, but MORE than human.
EVOLVED.
Clad in leather and steel. Tarnished badge on his chest.
A scarred leather collar extends to the top of Cades neck.
Machete on one hip. Pistol on the other. Shotgun strapped to
a loaded pack. Likely a knife in one boot if not both.
An army of one.
Cade places the old radio on the ground.
HOUSEMOTHER (V.O.)
...hot showers, food, and clean
bedding are provided...
Cade drops his open pack next to the radio. Three RABBIT
CARCASSES rest atop a cache of canned food and bottled water.
He removes one of the carcasses.
Underneath, a clear plastic pouch contains an officiallooking document:
"DETECTIVES SEARCH AND RETRIEVAL ORDER"
HOUSEMOTHER (V.O.)
...why risk the dangers of the
barren Wastelands when a secure,
comfortable home awaits you...
Clipped to the document is a PHOTOGRAPH OF A YOUNG GIRL:
She holds a bouquet of scraggly wildflowers. Smile from ear
to ear. Long flowing hair. Twinkling eyes. Flowered dress.
An ORNATE LOCKET around her neck.
Without a doubt, the gentle gaze of a younger, happier Alma.

3.
EXT. RESETTLEMENT CAMP PERIMETER - NIGHT
Alma pulls aside a section of chain link fence. She tosses
the rabbit carcass through the opening and crawls through.
In the distance, the silhouette of a tall radio tower.
A large warehouse spans the horizon at the base of the tower.
Alma crouches among the tall dry grass. She picks up the
rabbit carcass and whisks off toward the warehouse.
CUT TO:
INT. ABANDONED OFFICE BUILDING - NIGHT
With the sweep of one arm, Cade clears the clutter from a
nearby desk. Piles of abandoned printouts go flying.
A stained "#1 DAD" coffee mug shatters on the floor.
HOUSEMOTHER (V.O.)
...while we work toward
reunification with your family in
the security of the Safe Zone...
Cade lays the rabbit carcass belly-up on the cleared desk. He
pulls a gleaming sharp knife from one boot.
Cade STABS the knife into the belly of the carcass.
CUT TO:
INT. RESETTLEMENT CAMP BUNKHOUSE - NIGHT
A makeshift blade tears its way up the abdomen of a skinned
rabbit. Not the clean, sharp weapon of Alestair Cade. More
like a prison shiv constructed from the top of a soup can.
The blade is deftly wielded by ROYBOY, mid-teens. Bar code on
his neck. Ruddy and athletic even in his malnourished state.
Alma closes a trapdoor under Royboys bunk.
She turns to watch with hungry, vacant eyes as Royboy
butchers the rabbit carcass on a stained footlocker.
ROYBOY
Sure you want to share?
ALMA
Im sure. Put it in the soup pot.

4.
ROYBOY
Up to you. You caught it. None of
us will be upset if you eat it all.
ALMA
No. Eat less, stay thin. Stay
thin... stay alive.
Royboy acknowledges the grim statement with a nod.
ROYBOY
Never got a chance to say hi the
other day when they brought you in.
Id shake, but...
Royboy holds up his bloody hands. Alma points to the barcode
on her neck.
ALMA
Im eighty-three eleven.
ROYBOY
We dont use numbers here when
were by ourselves. Im Royboy.
Alma considers the statement. Unaccustomed to saying...
Im Alma.

ALMA

ROYBOY
Nice to meet you, Alma. Not used to
the Masters showing up with new
arrivals. Usually its the
Detectives bringing people in.
ALMA
They moved me from another camp.
ROYBOY
How many you been in?
ALMA
More than I can remember.
ROYBOY
Before that?
ALMA
I think I lived with my dad...
Almas eyes focus on a distant memory. One hand instinctively
moves to the spot on her neck where the locket would be worn.

5.
ALMA (CONT'D)
He was a scientist...
Alma goes pale as she watches Royboy scoop the innards from
the rabbit. Sweat on her forehead. Lips trembling.
MEMORY FLASH:
The torso of a young girl. CHEST OPENED, ORGANS REMOVED.
RETURN TO SCENE
Alma stares at the rabbit. Off her look -ROYBOY
Its less messy if you gut it
before bringing it back.
ALMA
I dont like that part.
Royboy laughs. He looks up at Alma. Shes malnourished,
unkempt and covered in grime. And to him, she is - beautiful.
ROYBOY
Right. I guess there really is a
girl underneath all that dirt.
Royboy can only stare. Captivated. Almas pale skin blushes
with color underneath the grime.
SKEETER (O.S.)
Her boobs get any bigger shell get
called up to the Zone!
SKEETER, an awkward young boy, intrudes laughing and snorting
as the bunkhouse fills with raucous youth.
The glare from Royboy stops Skeeter in his tracks.
SKEETER (CONTD)
What? Im just saying. Soon as a
girl gets her boobs, they suddenly
find her family. Then its off to
the Safe Zone. Haven't you noticed?
Alma covers up. Self conscious.
YOUNG LILY, 10, looks on. Horrified.
Royboy drops to one knee. Interlaces his fingers into a step.
ROYBOY
Come on Lily, time for bed.

6.
Alma watches as Lily steps into Royboys hands and he lifts
her up into the bunk.
Royboy stands. Faces Skeeter. Lowers his voice.
ROYBOY (CONTD)
We all notice. We just dont talk
about it. Especially not in front
of the young ones. Got it?
Skeeter cowers. Alma places a hand on Royboys arm.
ALMA
He didnt mean any harm.
Alma leans in. Her lips brush the side of Royboys neck as
she whispers in his ear...
ALMA (CONTD)
Im not worth the trouble.
Royboys face clouds in disbelief. He looks into Almas eyes.
ROYBOY
But... you are.
A quiet moment. Almas lip trembles. Then...
A smile.
YOUNG LILY
Shes coming!
Alma slides the footlocker over the trap door as Royboy
searches for a place to stash the shiv.
Here.

ALMA

Alma takes the shiv and wipes it clean. She unbuttons her
shirt and tucks the shiv into a CLOTH BAND wrapped tightly
around her chest. She catches Royboy staring.
Royboy's turn to blush. Alma nods toward Skeeter.
ALMA (CONTD)
Your friend may be a jerk, but he's
an observant jerk.
The youth stand to face the door. Hands behind their backs.
Eyes wide in silent fear as in walks -HOUSEMOTHER. Fully evolved ANUNNAKI-HUMAN HYBRID.

7.
More evolved than Cade. Her reptilian eyes survey the room.
She speaks in the calming voice from the radio broadcast.
HOUSEMOTHER
Hello, children.
BUNKHOUSE YOUTH
(in unison)
Hello, Housemother.
HOUSEMOTHER
I have exciting news for you. Some
of your families have been located.
A few of the younger children offer beaming, hopeful grins.
The older youth twist their mouths into forced smiles.
HOUSEMOTHER (CONTD)
The train will arrive soon to
reunify several of you with your
loved ones in the Safe Zone.
Housemother turns to depart. She stops. Sniffs the air.
HOUSEMOTHER (CONTD)
That rabbit is starting to go bad.
You may want to cook it soon.
Her tongue instinctively sweeps her upper lip.
HOUSEMOTHER (CONTD)
Unless you plan on eating it raw...
INT. ABANDONED OFFICE BUILDING - NIGHT
Cade wrings the rabbit carcass like a wet dish towel. Blood
and innards spill out onto the floor with a wet SLAP.
The photograph of Alma sits on the ground next to the radio.
The radio continues to crackle the broadcast.
HOUSEMOTHER (V.O.)
...it is a crime for citizens to
offer refuge to non-evolved
humans...
Cade uses the carcass to paint a line of gore from the pile
of innards to the base of a STAIRWELL DOOR a few yards away.
The word HIVE spray-painted across the chained-shut door.
Cade tosses the carcass onto the pile of entrails.

8.
He strikes a match and lights a small oil lamp. He adjusts
the reflector to shine on the bloody pile of mess.
HOUSEMOTHER (V.O.)
...surviving humans should be
turned over to a designated
Wasteland Detective for reward --- Cade turns off the radio.
He removes a pair of bolt cutters from his pack. Cuts the
chain on the door and pushes it open.
Stairs lead down into darkness. Cade grimaces.
CADE
Underground. Why do they always
live underground?
LATER
Cade sits, machete by his side. He holds a CRACKED LEATHER
JOURNAL in his hands. Studying it.
ON THE JOURNAL PAGES:
ANUNNAKI LIFEFORM HYBRID MORBIDITY
A series of scrawled notes:
UV SENSITIVITY; DNA DEGRADATION; HEMATOLOGICAL
REACTIVITY; SODIUM TOXICITY.
A sequence of intricate drawings and notes detail the phased
evolution of a HUMAN SUBJECT into a REPTILIAN HYBRID.
Then into an unrecognizable HUSK of a creature.
RETURN TO SCENE
Cade spots movement. He marks his page with the photo of
Alma. Puts away the journal in his pack. Watches as...
Pale wrinkled FINGERS curl around the door jamb. They probe
the blood at the base of the door before retreating.
A sickly SMACKING sound. HOARSE, RASPY CLICKING as a FACE
appears from the darkness. Desiccated features. Milky
sightless eyes. Fresh blood on withered lips.
Slowly the CORPSE-LIKE CREATURE emerges. An ELDER. It sniffs
the air. Lets out a SICK, RASPY WHIMPER. It crawls forward,
struggling to reach the rabbit and avoid the light.

9.
Cade lunges. He lands on the back of the creature. It
SQUEALS, an unearthly sound. A high-pitched RATTLE --- and Cade brings down the machete on its neck.
A flick of the blade and the ears of the corpse are removed.
Cade runs a leather cord through the grisly trophies.
INT. MAINTENANCE TUNNELS - NIGHT
Cade descends a stairwell. Tense. Machete at the ready.
The first creature charges. Cade dispatches it with ease.
Then another. And another. A larger creature drops from the
ceiling. Gleaming fangs gouge the collar around Cades neck.
A flurry of activity as Cade slays one after the other.
Hes a death machine.
They come in unspeakable numbers. A mindless swarm. Almost
overwhelming him. And then - he draws the shotgun.
BOOM!
INT. RESETTLEMENT CAMP - NIGHT
The EXPLOSIVE HISS of steam as a locomotive pulls into camp.
Heavy steel armor covers every inch of the windowless cars.
The camp is actually a large industrial warehouse in which
rows of bunkhouses have been constructed. A loading platform
and train tracks dominate one end of the warehouse.
Housemother steps onto the platform. She RINGS a large BELL.
The doors to the bunkhouses open as the children file out.
They gather around the platform, staring up at Housemother.
INT. UNDERGROUND TUNNELS - NIGHT
Dingy faces of frightened children look up at Cade through a
chain-link fence. They squint as the light from his oil lamp
illuminates their squalid holding cell.
One at a time, Cade compares them to the photograph of Alma.
No match. Cade draws his machete. Several of the captives
whimper and cry as they scurry to the back of the cell.
ELDEST CAPTIVE
Please... no...

10.

Shhhh...

CADE

Crying turns to near hysterics as Cade hacks away at the

ropes holding the fence in place.
EXT. ABANDONED DOWNTOWN STREET - NIGHT
Burned-out cars line the streets. Trash piled against curbs.
A once mighty financial district turned abandoned wasteland.
Overlapping layers of gang graffiti cover most surfaces:
"NO SKINKS ALLOWED"; "SKINK KILLAZ"; "GOD HATES SKINKS";
"KEEP AMERICA PURE - KILL A SKINK".
We see the silhouette of Cade as he exits one of the
buildings. He carries something on one shoulder.
A SCRAWNY YOUNG GIRL.
She scoops food from a can with her tiny hands.
The other freed captives follow. Eating from cans. Drinking
from plastic bottles. They hang onto Cade's near-empty pack.
Lambs being led by their shepherd.
The sound of SHOTGUNS BEING PUMPED halts the group.
EXT. ABANDONED ROOFTOP
A MAN kneels in the shadows of the rooftop. He looks through
the scope of a HI-TECH SNIPER RIFLE.
A LARGE SCAR ACROSS ONE EYE. Smooth evolved features. Leather
and steel armor. A badge on his chest.
Meet HORUS. Wasteland Detective. Fully evolved ANUNNAKI-HUMAN
HYBRID.
THROUGH THE SCOPE: We watch as Cade and the freed captives
are encircled by a band of HUMAN WASTELAND NOMADS.
Non-evolved human adults. Scarred. Dirty. Weary.
One at a time the reticle centers on the heads of more than a
dozen Nomads. Then on the heads of the rescued children.
EXT. ABANDONED DOWNTOWN STREET
An ANXIOUS NOMAD, 20s, steps forward. His shotgun aimed at
Cades head.

11.
ANXIOUS NOMAD
Take another step and Ill blow
away your partially evolved brains.
Anxious Nomad notices the child Cade is carrying. Recovers.
ANXIOUS NOMAD (CONTD)
But first put down the kid.
CADE
Shes too weak to stand.
The Anxious Nomad jabs Cade in the badge with the shotgun.
ANXIOUS NOMAD
Youll do what I tell you,
Detective. You think that badge
makes you special? The Masters
little skink pet?
Another jab with the shotgun.
ANXIOUS NOMAD (CONTD)
Out here its just a target.
Cade stares. Likely calculating a dozen ways to kill the man.
OLD NOMAD (O.S.)
Lower your guns!
The grizzled OLD NOMAD, 70s, takes the child from Cade.
Dark sun-wrinkled skin. White hair. A small WHITE FEATHER
EARRING dangles from one ear.
OLD NOMAD (CONTD)
Cades on our side, dumbass. Get
these kids in the wagons. We've got
a lot of ground to cover.
Cade pulls a map from his pack and hands it to Old Nomad. The
other Nomads remain vigilant. Anxious fingers on triggers.
CADE
Stay to the marked route until you
get to the coast.
ANXIOUS NOMAD
Bullshit. We head north. To the
Safe Zone.
CADE
The Zones a lie. It's not what you
think it is. Follow the map.

12.
Cade hands over a necklace full of severed, desiccated ears.
CADE (CONTD)
Some of the refuge houses will want
payment. This should be enough.
OLD NOMAD
We cant repay you.
CADE
Just answer a question for me.
Cade pulls out the PHOTOGRAPH OF ALMA.
Seen her?

CADE (CONTD)

Old nomad studies the photograph. He instinctively tugs at

the small feather earring. Glances up. A long stare at Cade.
OLD NOMAD
You know I got to ask, Cade. Why?
CADE
I owed her father a debt. He's
dead. The way I see it, I owe her.
Anxious Nomad laughs at the absurdity of the statement.
ANXIOUS NOMAD
That your idea of atonement,
Detective? Trying to somehow make
things right? You can't undo the
past. Youll never be human again.
Cade eyes the necklace of severed ears as Old Nomad tucks
them away in a pack.
CADE
And I'll never become one of them.
Old Nomad nods.
OLD NOMAD
Saw a girl looks like her. She was
being transferred to a camp near
here. Be careful, somethings got
the Elders all stirred up --- THWIP.
A dart strikes Cade in the neck. He grabs at it reflexively.
Panic spreads among the Nomads as they realize...

13.
ANXIOUS NOMAD
Its an ambush!
Cade yanks the dart from his neck. He studies it.
Run!

CADE

THWIP.
Another dart strikes Cade. He tries to grab it, his muscles
already weakening. Cade drops to one knee. He falls forward,
eyes heavy as he watches the Nomads flee for their lives.
EXT. RESETTLEMENT CAMP - NIGHT
The camps scrawny occupants look up, eyes wide with fear as
heavy black boots cross the platform toward Housemother.
The wearer of the boots has HARSH REPTILIAN FEATURES.
Pale scaly skin. Cruel black eyes. What a human would look
like if evolved to be the apex nocturnal predator.
Power, cunning, and hunger. The top of the food chain.
Meet VASTOK, ANCIENT ANUNNAKI MASTER. Destroyer of lives.
Instinctively, Royboy takes Alma's hand. They watch as Vastok
whispers to Housemother. A glint of Vastok's FANGS.
Housemothers hands tremble as she reads from a clipboard.
The soothing tone in her voice now shaky with - fear.
HOUSEMOTHER
Please board the train when your
number is called.
The older children step forward as the list is read. They bid
their farewells as ARMED DETECTIVES load them onto the train.
The last number is read.
HOUSEMOTHER (CONTD)
Twelve nine sixty-seven.
No!

ALMA

Alma glares at Vastok. She yells at him -ALMA (CONTD)

Why are you doing this?

14.
Vastok returns the glare. Cold. Emotionless. There is no
doubt he could kill her. But he only watches...
...as TWO DETECTIVES escort Royboy to the train.
Alma follows. Royboy spins to face her.
ROYBOY
Dont. Im not worth the trouble.
He places one hand on his chest - indicating the spot where
Alma hid the shiv. He offers a sad smile.
ROYBOY (CONTD)
Take care of yourself, Alma.
Alma watches. Mouth agape. Tears welling in her eyes as The
Detectives load Royboy on the train.
The sound of the train car doors SLAMMING closed.
INT. VASTOK'S OFFICE - NIGHT
A bare-chested, unconscious Cade sits strapped to a chair. A
gloved hand crushes an ampoule of smelling salts under Cades
nose. Cade shakes his head. Coughs.
Holding the ampoule is Horus.
VASTOK (O.S.)
Youve been busy, Detective Cade.
Cade sees Vastok sitting behind an ornate desk. Horus hands
Vastok the copy of Cades SEARCH AND RETRIEVAL ORDER.
VASTOK (CONTD)
A very convincing forgery. Did you
actually think that it would work?
Where were you going to take her?
Cade struggles against his restraints. Looking. Searching.
Spotting the journal and photograph - still in his pack.
VASTOK (CONTD)
These are serious crimes,
Detective. Forging documents.
Conspiring with smugglers. Setting
free the very humans you are tasked
with retrieving.
Horus tosses the necklace of withered ears on the desk.
VASTOK (CONTD)
Defiling the corpses of our Elders.

15.
Cade stares blankly at the necklace. Several additions have
been made. Not withered and dried. Fresh. Bloody. Human.
One ear sports a small, bloodstained WHITE FEATHER EARRING.
Cade closes his eyes to the horror on the desk.
VASTOK (CONTD)
Where are my manners? Putting fresh
meat in front of you like this. You
must be famished. When was the last
time you fed?
Cade shakes his head in reply. Vastok snaps his fingers.
Horus opens the door and Housemother brings in Skeeter. He
carries a large bowl full of gray slop.
CADE
Please. Dont.
Housemother gently nudges Skeeter forward. She uses one hand
to clean a smudge from his cheek. Offers a reassuring smile.
HOUSEMOTHER
Go on, child. Nothing to fear.
Skeeters hands shake as he sets the bowl on the desk.
VASTOK
According to our records,
Detective, its been seventeen
months since you received The
Blessing. Yet you have not
completed the change.
Vastok rises. He rests a hand on Skeeters head.
VASTOK (CONTD)
The incubation of The Blessing will
come to term in the next thirty
days. If you do not ingest
additional DNA by then...
Skeeter trembles as Vastok caresses his stubbled scalp.
CADE
Im begging you. Dont do this.
Vastok turns his attention to Skeeter.
VASTOK
Youre shaking. Are you hungry?
An apprehensive nod. Vastok motions to the bowl.

Deadline
By
Mollie E. Reeder

FADE IN:
EXT. CEMETERY - DAY
A perfect day.
In the middle of the verdant lawn, a deep hole waits to be
filled.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE CROSSING - NIGHT
The Crossing: a pedestrian intersection in the heart of the
neon district. An LED dragon coils on the billboard
overhead, breathing fire and then uncoiling and receding
back into darkness.
SUPER: 30 Days Before
The girls, backlit in the dragons flashing green and
orange, whistle and cock their hips as a dark sedan purrs
past the curb.
The car slows as the reflection of a lone figure in LEOPARD
BOOTS lengthens in its driver window.
ACROSS THE STREET
HOOKER
Whos that talking to the Audi?
HOOKER 2
The new girl.
She squints, scrutinizing the driver.
HOOKER
Dont let her get in that car!
Shes too late. The car peals off from the curb and
disappears into the sea of traffic.
EXT. NEON DISTRICT - NIGHT
The Audi changes lanes as thunder rumbles overhead.
The neon district is at the crossroads of "this is the
future" and "this is why we cant have nice things".

2.

INT. UNMARKED POLICE CAR - NIGHT

The headlights illuminate the dead end. Her grip tightens on
the door, this doesnt feel right. SETH CODY, 27, lanky and
sincere, cuts the engines.
Rain patters on the windows.
CODY
A friend is going to be joining us.
LEOPARD BOOTS
Hey, that costs extra The back door opens.
RORY (OS)
You can say that again.
Detective RORY GRAY flashes her badge as she slides into the
back seat. Cody parts his jacket to reveal his, too.
Rory, like Cody, is in plainclothes. In a hoodie and
sneakers, she looks younger than her 34 years, but her
appearance is at odds with a wry, stubborn demeanor most
people dont perfect until middle age.
The hooker gives a long, adolescent sigh, as if these are
her parents.
LEOPARD BOOTS
There were a ton of girls at the
Crossing, why did you have to
single me out?
RORY
Detective Cody here has a thing for
brunettes.
LEOPARD BOOTS
This is entrapment.
CODY
You know, I dont think that word
means what people think it means.
The girl sighs and crosses her arms.
LEOPARD BOOTS
So which one of you is good cop and
which is bad cop?

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

3.

RORY
I am. Which one would you like
today?
No response, so she continues.
RORY
Im looking for this man.
She shows the girl a photo.
The girl shifts. Beneath her backtalk, shes terrified.
Again, theres no response.
Rory rolls her eyes.
RORY
Give me a break. Look, youre not
fooling anybody. Youre eighteen,
nineteen tops. And youre an idiot.
You solicited sex from a cop. What
were you before you ran away from
home? Preachers kid?
The hooker unconsciously smooths a thumb over the cross on
her wrist.
Rory observes this gesture, presses in.
RORY
Whats your name?
Savannah.

LEOPARD BOOTS

RORY
Okay, Savannah. Whats your real
name?
...Emily.

LEOPARD BOOTS

RORY
Well, Emily. I ran away from home
when I was fourteen. I know how
people ruin their lives. It isnt
spectacular. Its one small choice
at a time. The trouble is, you
cant get out of trouble the same
way you got in. You really wanna
turn tricks the rest of your life?

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

4.

LEOPARD BOOTS
If I help you, do I have to go to
jail?
RORY
If you help me, Ill help you.
LEOPARD BOOTS
...Hes called Rex. He sometimes
deals crank out the back of this
noodle shop called Six Dragons.
Book her.

RORY

LEOPARD BOOTS
What?! We had a deal, bitch!
RORY
Youll thank me later.
She exits and pulls the hooker out of the car. Cody exits on
the other side.
CODY
You ran away from home when you
were fourteen?
RORY
No - but I think it played well
with Risky Business here.
The girl spits at her.
Rorys phone rings. She glances at it. Caller ID says
"Captain Carter".
Cody takes over for her as she answers.
Yeah?

RORY

CAPTAIN CARTER (PHONE)

You need to get back down here.
Rory watches as the Hooker tries to rabbit from Cody as he
goes to cuff her. He winds up putting her on the ground.
RORY
Im in the middle of a bust -

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

5.

CAPTAIN CARTER (PHONE)

Internal Affairs is here.
Rorys full attention is suddenly on the phone call.
CAPTAIN CARTER (PHONE)
You need to come in and answer some
questions.
Cody gives a sudden, high-pitched cry of pain.
Rory looks just in time to see Leopard Boots bolting away
from him, and hangs up angrily.
Rory gives chase as Cody shouts to her, moving the opposite
direction.
CODY
Ill head her off!
The girl streaks across the street, Rory chasing her.
The hooker is heading back toward The Crossing, into the
safety of other pedestrians.
CODY (RADIO)
Is she still heading west?
Rory ignores him, momentarily losing, then catching sight of
the girls head.
CODY (RADIO)
Rory, do you still have a visual?
BUS STOP
A taxi blares at the girl and comes within inches of hitting
Rory, who vaults the hood without breaking stride.
CODY (RADIO)
Rory? Talk to me.
Irritated, Rory pries the earpiece out of her ear and starts
to cross the street, closing in on the girl.
A bus pulls in, obscuring Rorys visual momentarily.
She bolts to close the distance, circling the bus and
quickly pushing through the small crowd - none of whom are
the girl.

6.
BUS
She boards the bus, flashing her badge at the driver and
then at the passengers.
RORY
Stay seated!
She goes from front to back.
Startled faces stare at her as she checks every row. A few
of them appear to think shes come for something theyve
done, but Rory reaches the back with no luck.
BUS STOP
She emerges from the bus, looking one way down the street,
then the other.
The girl is gone.
She gives a frustrated exclamation. Stops to catch her
breath.
Cody joins her on the corner as the bus pulls away.
RORY
She weighed like ninety-five
pounds, Seth!
He gestures angrily at her with a bleeding hand, perforated
in a jagged semi-circle.
CODY
Why werent you talking to me?
RORY
Its not my job to hold your hand!
Rory straightens, looking up and down the street one last
time, reluctant to give up.
Her phone rings - Captain Carter again.
INT. PRECINCT - NIGHT
IA Detective NOLAN, 45, thin and paranoid, wears gloves as
she examines the drawers in Rorys desk.
Cody arrives on his side of the desk, greeting Nolan
suspiciously.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

7.

CODY
Hey, hey. What are you Nolan stands up and flashes her badge.
NOLAN
Mira Nolan. Internal Affairs.
CODY
Internal Affairs?
Rory intervenes, stepping between them.
RORY
Mira? Its been awhile. Youre
working for IA now?
Nolan checks her watch.
NOLAN
Nice of you to finally turn up.
Nolan removes an external hard drive from one of the drawers
and bags it in an evidence bag.
Rory glances around - several other detectives have stopped
working to watch.
RORY
Can we talk somewhere else?
INTERROGATION
Nolan starts a digital recorder and sits down across from
Rory.
RORY
Im sorry - is this on the record?
NOLAN
You asked to speak in private.
Rory looks dubiously at her own reflection in the one-way
glass.
RORY
Yeah, not exactly what I had in
mind.
The door opens. Another internal affairs detective enters,
shuts the door quietly, and says nothing.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

8.

Rory narrows her eyes at this set-up. Sits back and crosses
her arms.
RORY
So when does the waterboarding
start?
NOLAN
Im reopening the Li investigation.
Rory exhales.
RORY
We really have to go over all this
again?
NOLAN
I have reason to believe the
original investigation was
mishandled. A key piece of evidence
was overlooked.
Nolan flashes her tablet at Rory - police photos of a
sprawled, twisted corpse.
Rory glances away from it.
Squeamish?

NOLAN

RORY
I know you came from homicide, so
this may be hard for you to
understand, but I dont get off on
corpses. And Li was a friend.
NOLAN
Then I would expect you to be eager
to cooperate with my investigation.
RORY
If by "cooperate" you mean "confess
to a murder I didnt commit", then
dont hold your breath.
NOLAN
You originally stated that you
hadnt seen Li twenty-four hours
prior to his death.
RORY
This is all in my deposition.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

9.

NOLAN
His phone records indicate you
called him multiple times the night
he was murdered. Why were you
calling him?
Rory can hardly fathom this question:
RORY
Because he was my partner, and I
hadnt seen him in 24 hours?
Nolan remains unfazed.
NOLAN
If you could lose the lip, that
would be helpful.
RORY
If you could stop asking me stupid
questions, that would be more
helpful.
Nolan sits back, switching tacks.
NOLAN
Why did you become a police
officer, Gray?
Rory doesnt answer.
NOLAN
Youre the model cop, Gray. Top of
your class at the academy,
outstanding arrest record as a
patrol cop - you made detective in
two and a half years. You made a
record-breaking number of drug
busts in the past six months. So
why does no one want to work with
you?
RORY
I wouldnt characterize it that
way.
NOLAN
Youve had three partners since
John Li. Why did the first two
request reassignment?

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

10.
RORY
Youd have to ask them that.
NOLAN
Is it true that you punched one of
your former partners in the face
during a friendly softball game?
RORY
Four weeks after John died. I came
back to work too soon.
NOLAN
Your current partner has a review
coming up next month. What do you
anticipate he will have to say
about you?

Rory gets up suddenly.

RORY
Pending this investigation, am I
suspended?
...No.

NOLAN

Rory goes for the door.

NOLAN
Dont you want to know what it was?
Rory looks back.
NOLAN
I told you a key piece of evidence
was overlooked. You didnt ask me
what it was.
RORY
What was it?
NOLAN
Lis badge. We never found it.
RORY
Cant you just let him rest in
peace?
NOLAN
Li can rest in peace when hes
avenged.
Rory lets herself out.

11.
PRECINCT
Rory returns to her desk, rifling through the drawers and
taking inventory. She slams a drawer with more force than
necessary.
When she looks up, Cody is standing on his side of the desk.
RORY
Everythings fine.
CODY
Are we going to go check up on that
noodle shop?
Go home.

RORY

CODY
Are you still pissed at me? About
earlier?
She indicates his bitten hand.
RORY
Go to the hospital on your way. You
probably have rabies now.
She takes her keys and goes.
EXT. SIX DRAGONS - NIGHT
Rory waits.
REX crosses the street. Rory exits her vehicle, crossing the
street as he enters the shop.
INT. SIX DRAGONS - NIGHT
Theres only one customer, eating dim sum and reading a
comic book. Rex can be heard faintly in the back, shouting
with someone in Cantonese.
The customer notices Rory, and gives her a coy grin.
She puts a hand on her sidearm, revealing her badge, and
shakes her head silently, seriously.
Dumpling-Eater pales and leaves, taking his comic book with
him.
Rory advances on the kitchen door.
(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

12.

The arguing abruptly stops, so Rory closes the distance and

kicks open the door.
It bangs open to reveal the elderly NOODLE COOK, who jumps
and raises his hands, then points wordlessly to a red metal
door by the freezer.
The door opens to a dim staircase.
Rory looks down.
NOODLE COOK
Bad science.
She looks back at him. He shakes his head warningly and goes
back to cooking.
She draws her weapon and descends the staircase.
SECRET LAB
Rory enters the lab, swathed in dim green light from the
fluorescent bulbs over the workspace.
She glances up as a moth flutters helplessly against the
light, bumping into it repeatedly.
Rexs back is turned to her. Hes working on something in
the center of the room. A thin trail of smoke rises as he
solders two wires together.
He senses her and turns with a startled jerk. Rex is
20-something, scruffy and reedy, with all the earmarks of
too little sleep and too many substances.
She shows him her badge.
Rex?

RORY

He looks into her face. Recognition and surprise dawns on

him. He presses his back against the workbench.
Its you.

REX

She shakes her head.

RORY
We dont know each other. Put your
hands up.

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

13.

Rex steps aside from his project, but doesnt raise his
hands all the way.
REX
No... we dont.
RORY
Rex - put your hands up!
Rex raises his hands slowly.
His glance goes sideways, nervously. His raised fingers
twitch.
Her gaze follows his.
Its some kind of generator, perhaps; with a crude and
industrial look to it, made of plastic piping and copper
wire. Thick black power cables snake away from the power
inverter to a set of lithium-ion car batteries.
RORY
This isnt a drug lab... what are
you doing here?
REX
You need to stay away from me.
Hes edging back, shes edging forward. She levels her gun,
sensing imminent escalation. Her laser sight rests over his
heart.
RORY
What is that thing? What are you
doing here?
REX
If you dont stay away from me,
Rory, Im going to have to kill
you.
The laser sight drops slightly as her concentration falters.
RORY
How do you know my name?
Her moment of shock is all he needs to get the drop on her.
He dives away, behind a workbench.
She falls back, firing at him.
He grabs a gun from a drawer, appears over the top of his
barricade. Fires back.
(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

14.

Rory scrambles for cover, ending up crouched behind a

shelving unit as several bullets ping around her.
She returns fire. A stray bullet scores the power inverter.
The machine begins to whine.
She risks leaning out from her cover to look towards the
unnatural sound. One of the l-ion batteries is starting to
smoke.
RORY
Rex, unplug that thing!
The machines whine is getting louder, as if its warming
up. As the internal coils brighten, the lights overhead dim
and flicker.
Rex calls out to her:
REX
I never wanted any trouble!
RORY
Yeah. Little late for that, Sport.
Shes been listening, counting off the number of shots fired
on one hand. She loads a fresh clip into her gun.
He aims over the workbench and fires toward her - once,
twice, CLICK.
The room falls silent, except for the machine. She gets up,
begins to cautiously circle the room toward his hiding spot.
He springs on her. They flip over one another on the cement.
He ends up on top, wielding a handheld blowtorch. She tries
desperately to fight him off, and they grapple fumblingly.
In the foreground, an LED display crudely wired to the
machine ticks up to 99%. Several of the smoking batteries
spark.
100%
The machine goes white-hot. The fluorescent bulbs blow out,
but the room stays lit. Everything is enveloped in light.
CUT TO:

15.

INT. LOCKED POLICE CAR - NIGHT

Rory sits up suddenly in the back seat of an unmarked police
car. It is dark and quiet all around her.
Startled, she straightens and looks around.
She raises her hands - but shes handcuffed.
When she rattles the cage, its locked tight - confining her
to the back.
The date on the instrument panel says 6/28.
Theres a half-empty cup of coffee still in the cup holder,
and a PINK PLASTIC RABBIT sitting on the dash.
EXT. BULLET TRAIN - NIGHT
The TRAIN interrupts the stillness of the night, screaming
through the dark.
It races confidently around a curve, headlights cutting twin
beams as it emerges around the bend.
INT. LOCKED POLICE CAR - NIGHT
The interior grows alarmingly bright as the train
approaches. Shimmying on the dash, the plastic rabbit is
illuminated from behind.
Rory stares through the windshield into the oncoming train.
The train whistles urgently.
She turns and aims a kick at the windowpane.
EXT. BULLET TRAIN - NIGHT
The train is braking, hard, but it wont brake in time. Its
whistle sounds again as it bares down on the vehicle.
Sparks fly. The brakes scream.

THE 11TH HOUR

Written by
David Michael Kushner
&
Joshua Nathan Bullock

FADE IN:
EXT. RED RIVER - OKLAHOMA - DAWN
An elderly FISHERMAN, Southern as they come, leans against
the edge of his boat, patiently attending to his fishing
line. He reels in the line, recasts upstream.
Catching his attention -- what appears to be a vacated wooden
boat gliding effortlessly downstream.
The Fisherman gets to his feet, attempting to obtain a better
view. A look of horror comes over him as he realizes its --- a wooden casket, blood stains on the edges, a Christian
cross carved into the cover.
EDWARD (V.O.)
Surely goodness and mercy shall
follow me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of
the Lord forever -INT. OKLAHOMA STATE PENITENTIARY - DEATH ROW CELL - MORNING
A Christian cross adorned on a faded leather Bible cover.
Pacing back and forth across the six-by-eight foot cement
cell --- EDWARD H. CULLY, early-50s, his unassuming nature not
fully burying the violence of his past. Reciting a Psalm as
if he were a Preacher, louder each time -EDWARD
-- Surely goodness and mercy shall
follow me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of
the Lord forever. SURELY GOODNESS
AND MERCY SHALL FOLLOW ME ALL THE
DAYS OF MY LIFE: AND I WILL DWELL
IN THE HOUSE OF THE LORD FOREVER!
A loud buzzing interrupts Edwards preaching.
approach the cell door.

Two GUARDS

GUARD #1
Its time, Cully.
With a calming breath, Edward places the Bible onto a tiny
desk, approaches the cell door.

2.
Guard #2 unlocks a thin slit in the door, just enough for
Edwards hands to fit through.
Hands out.

GUARD #2

Edward extends his hands through the slit.

them.

Guard #2 cuffs

The Guards unlock the cell, cautiously shackling Edwards

feet before escorting him down the deserted corridor.
INT. OKLAHOMA STATE PENITENTIARY - LATER
Edward, distant and removed, sits beside his Lawyer, RAYMOND
SHAPIRO, mid-50s, studious, across from three PAROLE BOARD
MEMBERS.
RAYMOND
I believe it goes without question
that there is an overwhelming
disparity between the sentence
handed down to my client -- death
by lethal injection -- with that of
his more culpable co-defendants,
Darell Gilbert and Russell
Stampford, who will soon be
released on parole after serving
only twenty-eight years at a medium
security prison. Wed ask that you
consider granting my client
clemency, thereby reducing his
sentence to parallel those of his
co-defendants.
BOARD MEMBER #1
More culpable co-defendants? So
your client feels as though he is
less guilty than the others?
RAYMOND
My client maintains that he was
drugged, co-erced and
indoctrinated, and that when push
came to shove, Mr. Gilbert and Mr.
Stampford testified against him in
exchange for lighter sentences.
Board Member #2 slides a group of pictures across the table.
Raymond glances down at them --

3.
-- YOUNG WOMEN, late teenagers or early 20s, deceased, laid
out in wooden caskets, crown of thorns around the head, clad
in open black robes, knife wounds through the heart, crescent
moons and four-pointed stars carved into the skin.
RAYMOND (CONTD)
Ive seen the pictures.
FEMALE BOARD MEMBER
Ten different women, ten different
gruesome acts. All the while he
led an unsullied -- even decorated
-- career as an Oklahoma State
detective. And you want us to
believe your client was
indoctrinated each and every
time?
EDWARD
For thy name's sake, O Lord, pardon
mine iniquity; for it is great.
Hes captured the Boards attention.
EDWARD (CONTD)
It is true -- I have engaged in
many transgressions in my life,
transgressions of which I am not
proud. But to this day I do not
forsake responsibility for my
crimes, as they have led me to the
light of Jesus and his Father, God
in Heaven. I am confident that He
has forgiven me for these acts, and
I can only hope that you will, in
turn, show the same forgiveness,
and grant me mercy.
The Board Members converse quietly amongst themselves.
a deliberative moment -BOARD MEMBER #3
Your dedication to Christianity is
commendable, Mr. Cully. It is a
shame that you did not seek such
passage before you used your power
as a respected detective to rape
and murder ten innocent women. Our
greatest misfortune here is not our
ability to consider whether your
sentence is too severe, but rather
our inability to consider whether
your co-defendants sentences were
too lenient.
(MORE)

After

4.
BOARD MEMBER #3 (CONT'D)
We are hereby denying you clemency.
Your execution date will remain
thirty days from now.
INT. OKLAHOMA STATE PENITENTIARY - DEATH ROW CELL - LATER
Edward sits at his desk, reading from his Bible.
stands just outside, under Guard supervision.

Raymond

RAYMOND
We havent yet extinguished all
avenues of recourse. Ill file a
petition with the Governors
office. A last minute grant of
clemency is always a possibility.
(to the Guard)
Keep an eye on him, will you?
GUARD
Ten minute rounds, twenty-four
seven.
RAYMOND
An extra eye on him?
EDWARD
Suicide is a sin, Raymond. A
direct violation of the Commandment
Thou shalt not kill.
Raymond accepts Edwards reasoning, allows the Guards to
escort him out of the corridor.
As Edward takes his Bible and backs away from his desk, we
see a calendar -- the thirtieth day from now reading: DAY
30 accompanied by a smiley face with two Xs for eyes.
INT. HIGGS RESIDENCE - KITCHEN - MORNING
Boxes litter the floor and line the walls. Wrapped plates,
silverware and kitchen utensils clutter the counters.
KATHERINE HIGGS, 40, attractive without any air of pretense,
stands at the sink unwrapping and washing pots and pans.
Entering -- DETECTIVE CLAYTON HIGGS, early 40s, clad in a
button-up shirt with police duty belt suspenders, a .357
Magnum dangling from one side. Shiny badge on his waistline.
Clayton unwraps a mug and rinses it in the sink without so
much as a glance at Katherine.

5.
He pours himself a cup of black coffee, takes a seat at the
kitchen table, and pulls a police file from his briefcase.
KATHERINE
Want me to make you some breakfast?
She dries her hands on a towel, opens the refrigerator.
Im fine.

CLAYTON

Digging through the meager contents -KATHERINE

Theres not much, but Im sure I
could fix up something.
CLAYTON
(snapping at her)
I said Im fine, Katherine.
Katherine crosses back to the sink, silently resumes washing
the pots and pans. Clayton stares at Katherine as if wanting
to say something, but instead returns to his file.
Interrupting the tension, their daughter, MAGGIE HIGGS, 17,
trotting into the kitchen, a bookbag over her shoulder.
She walks to the coffee pot, pours herself a cup.
KATHERINE
Your lunch is on the top shelf in
the fridge.
With extreme teenage angst -MAGGIE
I told you yesterday -- Ill get
something at the cafeteria.
KATHERINE
But I made your favorite.
salad.

Tuna

MAGGIE
I havent liked tuna salad since I
was seven.
She heads for the door.
KATHERINE
And where are you running off to?

6.
MAGGIE
Its called a school bus.
KATHERINE
Your father is going to drive you.
We discussed this.
We did?

CLAYTON

MAGGIE
Its my first day at a new school
and you want me to get dropped off
by my dad?
Clayton gets up from his chair, coffee mug in hand.
CLAYTON
Im running late to the precinct as
it is.
Both Clayton and Maggie shuffle toward the door as hastily as
possible.
Katherine slams a pan roughly into the sink, causing Clayton
and Maggie to stop dead in their tracks.
KATHERINE
Margaret Susan Higgs, you will take
that lunch out of the refrigerator
or so help me God!
Begrudgingly, Maggie marches to the refrigerator and stuffs
the lunch roughly into her bookbag.
KATHERINE (CONTD)
And Clayton, if youre so late then
maybe you shouldnt be sitting here
sipping a cup of coffee. Now the
two of you, get in that car!
Scoffing, Maggie briskly exits the kitchen.
Katherine turns away, fighting off tears. Clayton
approaches, putting a comforting arm around her.
KATHERINE (CONTD)
I just want us to be a family
again.
I know.

CLAYTON
We will.

He rubs her shoulder.

7.
CLAYTON (CONTD)
When I get home tonight, well look
through those paint swatches,
alright?
Katherine softly nods her head yes.

Clayton leaves.

INT. CLAYTONS DETECTIVE CRUISER - LATER

Clayton drives, Maggie riding shotgun.
MAGGIE
I could have taken the bus, ya
know.
CLAYTON
This makes your Mother feel more
comfortable.
MAGGIE
And I guess my comfort doesnt
matter?
Uncomfortable silence. Clayton pulls onto a well maintained
campus, where a sign reads DANVILLE HIGH SCHOOL. Motioning
toward a softball field on their right -CLAYTON
Look at all that green. Much
better than the glass-ridden fields
back in Chicago.
MAGGIE
You know what else is back in
Chicago? My friends.
CLAYTON
Weve been over this.
MAGGIE
Yeah, we have. You and Mom have
issues, so Im forced to leave
everything behind right before
senior year. Seems fair.
CLAYTON
It was a good opportunity for my
career. Nothing else.
MAGGIE
Thats total bullshit.

8.
CLAYTON
Watch your mouth.
MAGGIE
Just stop the car.
here.

Ill get out

CLAYTON
Im taking you to the entrance,
like it or not.
MAGGIE
Stop the car!
Clayton slams on the brakes.
moment, before --

The two sit in silence for a

CLAYTON
Look Maggie, I know this is hard
for you, but -MAGGIE
-- Save the lecture, Dad.
She gets out of the car, slams the door and heads toward the
school. Clayton watches as she tosses her lunch into a
nearby trash can, and vanishes into the mass of STUDENTS.
Clayton sits in silence, Maggies words echoing in his head.
Snapping him back to reality, a POLICE DISPATCHER resonates
over his radio -POLICE DISPATCHER
All available units report to
Interstate 11 and Mountainview. I
repeat, all available units report
to Interstate 11 and Mountainview.
Weve got a reported homicide.
CLAYTON
(into his walkie-talkie)
This is Detective Higgs. Im en
route.
He speeds off.
INT. DANVILLE HIGH SCHOOL - MINUTES LATER
Maggie looks around aimlessly, trying to find her classroom.
With her eyes focused on a map of the school, she turns a
corner and slams directly into --

9.
-- AUSTIN BENNETT, 18, Gothic, clad in black, piercings,
rings and necklaces, tattoos covering his arms, and a
pentacle tattoo on his neck. A camera dangles on his chest.
Im sorry.

MAGGIE
I didnt see you.

Checking his camera to make sure it wasnt broken -AUSTIN

Dont worry bout it.
As he starts off -MAGGIE
You wouldnt happen to know where I
can find room 203E?
Austin doubles back.
New here?

AUSTIN

Maggie nods in affirmation.

Follow me.

AUSTIN (CONTD)

He escorts her down the hall.

outstretches his arms.

As they turn a corner, Austin

AUSTIN (CONTD)
(sarcastically)
Welcome to the majestic town of
Danville.
Maggie smiles at his quirkiness.
AUSTIN (CONTD)
I could lie and say theres a
buncha cool shit to do, but I bet
youd call my bluff.
MAGGIE
Youre right. Whats with the -She points to his camera.
AUSTIN
Oh -- yearbook photographer. I
been instructed to capture
authentic moments of the student
body.
(MORE)

10.
AUSTIN (CONT'D)
Thats student body, as a whole,
not the actual students body.
Maggie laughs.
AUSTIN (CONTD)
Yeah, I know what you were
thinkin.
MAGGIE
You have no idea what I was
thinking.
They share a smile.
AUSTIN
Here we are. 203E.
An awkward moment of silence.

Austin grabs his camera.

AUSTIN (CONTD)
How bout a quick shot?
MAGGIE
Thats alright. Im already late
enough.
AUSTIN
Cmon now, dont be shy. Principal
Cook will kill me if I dont get a
pic of you on your first day.
After a moment of deliberation -Okay.

MAGGIE

She fixes her hair and steps back against the wall.
MAGGIE (CONTD)
How do I look?
Perfect.

AUSTIN

He lifts the camera and -- SNAP! -- takes the picture.

EXT. HIGHWAY - LATER
Police Units engulf the area where Interstate 11 meets
Mountainview Road, blocking off passage. Clayton approaches
in his cruiser.

11.
INT. CLAYTONS DETECTIVE CRUISER - MINUTES LATER
Clayton drives down a dirt road, the forestry becoming
thicker and more eerie by the foot. He turns around a bend
to find a group of OFFICERS standing by the river bank.
EXT. RED RIVER - SECONDS LATER
Clayton walks toward the crime scene.
to him, revealing --

The Officers give way

-- ABIGAIL PEARSON, 18, deceased, clad in an open black robe,

a knife wound through her heart, laid out in a homemade
wooden casket, crown of thorns around her head.
Standing near the body -- CAPTAIN MARSHALL WARD, early-50s, a
no-bullshit kind of guy, and Detective BEAU RICKMAN, mid-50s,
out of shape, brow sweating in the morning sun.
Captain.

CLAYTON

CAPTAIN WARD
Fisherman found her floatin down
the river. Names Abigail Pearson.
Aged nineteen. Local girl, just
graduated from Danville a few
months back.
The last bit of information strikes a chord with Clayton.
CAPTAIN WARD (CONTD)
Higgs, youll take lead on this
one.
DETECTIVE RICKMAN
Dont ya think this would be best
handled by someone with a lil more
-- local experience.
CLAYTON
Rickmans right, Captain. He does
know this area better than I do.
CAPTAIN WARD
I didnt bring in a sixteen-year
homicide vet from Chicago to have
him ride the pine.
DETECTIVE RICKMAN
But Captain --

12.

-- Enough.

CAPTAIN WARD

After a long stare at Clayton -DETECTIVE RICKMAN

Hope ya know what youre doin,
city boy.
He steps away from the scene, rejoining some fellow Officers.
Getting right back to business -CAPTAIN WARD
Her car was found six miles north,
little ways off the water. Were
runnin a perimeter round the
vehicle to see if we can pick up a
second set of tire tracks.
Clayton puts on a pair of latex gloves. As he kneels over
the body, he hesitates for a moment, a fear from his past
resurfacing.
CAPTAIN WARD (CONTD)
Whaddya make of it?
Snapping out of it -CLAYTON
Ritualistic, spiritual. My moneys
on some kind of religious fanatic.
He picks up a wooden goblet with Satanic-looking carvings.
Placing the goblet into an evidence bag -CLAYTON (CONTD)
Gonna need this swabbed for DNA and
foreign substances.
He hands it to a nearby OFFICER who nods in confirmation and
leaves. Clayton makes his way to the lower half of the body.
CLAYTON (CONTD)
Vaginal lacerations. Most likely
raped.
As he continues inspecting, he discovers some blood on her
mid-section that doesnt appear to be from the knife wound.
Carefully, he removes her robe and turns over the body,
revealing --

13.
-- a crescent moon and four-pointed star carved into her
back.
CAPTAIN WARD
Jesus. Ever seen markings like
that before?
CLAYTON
First time for me. But not for
whoever did this. Ill run the
pics through the database, see if
we get a match from a past crime
scene.
CAPTAIN WARD
Get me something A.S.A.P.
already up my ass.

Press is

Clayton nods, Captain walks off. Clayton gazes out over the
wide river, an ill-omened feeling coming over him.
INT. PEARSON RESIDENCE - LATER
Tidy, religious household.

A Christian cross on the wall.

Abigails Parents, RICHARD and BETH PEARSON, are huddled on

the couch. Beth is overcome with tears, Richard doing his
best to console her.
Clayton sits across from them, flanked by OFFICERS.
CLAYTON
No words could possibly ease the
pain you two are feeling right now,
but if its any consolation, I
understand what youre going
through.
This information catches the Pearsons off-guard, and they
keenly eye Clayton, his past heartbreak written all over him.
CLAYTON (CONTD)
I know how hard it is to bury a
child. So believe me when I say
that Im going to do everything in
my power to find out who did this
to Abigail. Is there anyone -anyone at all -- that might want to
hurt your daughter?

14.
BETH PEARSON
No -- of course not. Abigail was a
good girl. Straight A student,
attended Church every Sunday.
CLAYTON
Do you know where she was last
night?
RICHARD PEARSON
Visiting with her friend Rebecca in
Bridesburg.
CLAYTON
Whats Rebeccas last name?
McCluskey.

RICHARD PEARSON

Clayton jots down the information.

BETH PEARSON
When it got past Abigails curfew
we called her, but there was no
answer. I spoke to Rebecca, and
she told me that Abigail had
already left. When she didnt come
home -- we -- we filed a missing
persons report.
CLAYTON
Before I go, do you mind if I take
a look around Abigails room?
Mr. Pearson stands up.
RICHARD PEARSON
Right this way.
He escorts Clayton down the hall.
INT. ABIGAILS ROOM - MINUTES LATER
Clayton inspects the room. Orderly, immaculate, walls void
of any decoration. He stops at the desk by an open laptop.
He brings up a web browser. Scanning through her history -Facebook, Amazon, Twitter -- all common websites. Finally
catching his attention --- Catholicyouths.com.

15.
Clayton clicks the homepage, bringing up a Catholic social
networking site. He browses briefly before being prompted
for a password. Closing the laptop, he takes it and leaves.
EXT. ABANDONED MILL HOUSE - LATER
GOTHIC TEENAGERS loiter, drinking beers and smoking
cigarettes.
Parking his cruiser, Clayton withdraws a picture of Abigail
and REBECCA MCCLUSKEY, aged 18, black eye shadow and all
black clothing, your typical Gothic punk.
As Clayton heads toward the mill house, Goths eye him up
suspiciously. Wandering the perimeter, Clayton spots Rebecca
talking with a group of friends, all holding beers.
Rebecca?

CLAYTON

Turning her attention to Clayton -REBECCA

(with attitude)
Who are you?
Clayton flashes his badge, prompting Rebecca to straighten up
and attempt to hide her beer behind her back. The rest of
the Goths shuffle away.
CLAYTON
Im not here for the beer.
Rebecca relaxes a bit.
CLAYTON (CONTD)
I need to ask you a few questions
about Abigail Pearson.
REBECCA
I heard what happened.
cant believe it.

I -- I --

She starts to tear up.

CLAYTON
You know what I cant believe?
That after one of your closest
friends is murdered, youre out
here having a good time.

THIRTY DAYS TO LIFE

Written by
Dave Merlino
&
Dustin Sweet

INT. LAS VEGAS - GOLDEN SLOTS CASINO - GAMING FLOOR - DAY

Casino machines buzz and clang all over the expansive gaming
floor. Music plays and lights flash, but no one is walking
around. Something is wrong.
We move in to see scores of GAMBLERS prone on the floor with
their hands behind their heads. They look around nervously,
too scared to move.
The reason is obvious in the presence of a black clad ROBBER
and his team of ACCOMPLICES, decked in full body armor and
prepping a small arsenal of handguns, rifles and enough spare
magazines to invade a small country.
One accomplice runs in from a back hallway.
ACCOMPLICE 1
Theyve got us covered on all
sides. No easy way out.
ROBBER
Any sign of SWAT?
ACCOMPLICE 1
I dont see how every cop in Vegas
would show up to the party and not
invite SWAT.
The building power cuts out with a loud groan. The lights go
dark and the machines on the floor go silent.
ROBBER
Theres our answer.
(grabs a rifle)
Ready move in two.
INT. GOLDEN SLOTS CASINO - SERVICE ACCESS - SAME TIME
A little used service hallway, cramped by the SIX MAN SWAT
TEAM lined up on the door. Bristling with armor, weapons, and
professional intent, they are not types you willingly cross.
Among them are two men whose friendship is cemented in their
mutual rise from being rookies in the academy, all the way to
the pinnacle of being accepted on SWAT.
One is JOE HEWITT, the Cop you put on the recruiting posters.
He loves his job, his partners love him and he has a knack of
making it all look easy.
The other is ERIC FOWLER, the quiet, solid tactician. The
voice of reason to Joes superhero.

2.

ERIC
Do me a favor and try to look a
little less excited.
JOE
Why? We signed up to make a
difference and help others. I think
this qualifies.
ERIC
I thought it was for the big guns
and authority to drive really fast.
JOE
Those are perks.
SWAT Leader, KREGG JORGENSON, the battle tested steady hand
to the ambitious rookies, turns and holds his fist up for
silence.
JORGENSON
Breach is a go, watch your
backdrops.
The men turn deadly serious, weapons at the ready as
Jorgenson grabs a remote off his vest.
JORGENSON
Knock, knock.
INT. GOLDEN SLOTS CASINO GAMING FLOOR - SECONDS LATER
BOOM! Hostages scream and robbers stumble in surprise as an
access door blows inward and the SWAT team pours in with
tactical precision.
Joe and Eric peel off to the left and sight in on Accomplice
1. BRDDT! A controlled burst from Joes rifle rips through
the accomplices chest. Dead before he hits the ground.
Hostages scream in confusion as the gun battle erupts all
around them. Joe moves to engage another accomplice when a
terrified WOMAN jumps up and runs into his path of fire.
Joe grabs the woman and throws her back to the floor, but not
before a round rips through his shoulder.
Joe grunts in pain as he hits the floor. A quick check shows
he still has movement and he rises to get back in the fight.
He turns just as ACCOMPLICE 3 pulls a pin on a small metal
cannister and throws it at him. Joe sees it coming and tries
to duck for cover, but its too late.

3.

BOOM! A deafening noise and BLINDING FLASH rock his senses

when the flash bang goes off. All he can hear is the ringing
in his ears and all he can see is a haze of white.
BRDDT! That is when the rifle rounds rip through his chest.
Eric sees his partner fall. He turns and fires precision
rounds into the chest of Accomplice 3, killing him instantly.
Eric grabs Joe and attempts to pull him to safety. A volley
of bullets ricochet right next to him and he has to stop to
return fire.
Joe is only vaguely aware of the frantic activity around him
as he stares up at the bright lights of the ceiling.
A WOMAN IN WHITE wades through the storm. The room slows and
the din clears. Time seems to come to a stop around her as
she glides through the room and stops next to Joes head.
Joe doesnt know why, but he smiles at her calming presence
and reaches his hand up at her. She smiles and reaches her
hand back.
Their hands touch and the world goes white.
INT. WET WEASEL BAR - EVENING - EIGHTEEN YEARS LATER
The Wet Weasel, the place the real drinkers go to get away
from the locals who are trying to get away from the tourists.
He sits in a corner booth, alternating between a bottle of
hard alcohol and his beer chasers. Gone is the ambitious gogetter cop, replaced by a cynical forty year old shell of
himself.
Eric flops down opposite him and stares at Joes meal. The
years have been kinder to now Major Crimes Detective Fowler.
ERIC
Please tell me youre not on duty.
JOE
Cant be a good Vice cop if you
dont have your own vices.
ERIC
Then you must be the best damn cop
on the squad.

4.

JOE
Eric Fowler, ladies and gentlemen,
playing the best friend role of
pointing out all my flaws under the
guise of making me a better person.
ERIC
What would you like me to say?
JOE
Have you ever heard of social
pleasantries? Here, Ill start. How
was your weekend?
ERIC
Fine, until the call in the middle
of the night for some shipping
heist.
JOE
Youre the one who decided to join
Major Crimes. I tried to warn you.
ERIC
I dont know if, They do too much
work qualifies as a warning.
JOE
Maybe if you had a family they
might move you off the number one
position on the speed dial.
ERIC
That advice seems a tad bit
disingenuous coming from you.
JOE
Things are different. You still
have a chance at a happily ever
after.
Joe finishes off his glass of alcohol.
JOE
Since were on duty, we might as
well talk business. Anything
unusual at the scene?
ERIC
Pretty standard. Whole bunch of
bullets and dead bodies, an empty
shipping container. Bartucci can
fill you in on the rest.
(MORE)

5.

ERIC (CONT'D)
Im sure hell be calling for your
help pretty soon.
JOE
Whys that?
ERIC
His men were the dead bodies.
JOE
Thats not his style.
ERIC
I havent even told you the best
part. There were a shit ton of
shell casings on the scene that
dont match the guards weapons or
Bartuccis men. Someone else joined
the party.
JOE
Who would be stupid enough to cross
Bartucci?
ERIC
Thats probably what hell want
your help finding out.
Joe pours himself another glass of alcohol and stares at
Eric.
JOE
I dont know what youre talking
about.
ERIC
Everybody knows you know what Im
talking about. Im not asking you
to double cross him. I just need to
know what he says to you.
JOE
I dont really see a difference in
those two statements. Im sure he
wouldnt either.
ERIC
Come on, Joe, theres a lot of heat
on us to solve this and I dont
have a lot to go on. I need your
help.
Joe throws back his drink and thinks it over.

6.

JOE
Sorry, buddy, crossing Bartucci
doesnt come with a long life
expectancy and, if you havent
noticed, Ive already used up some
of my nine lives.
ERIC
That doesnt mean you have to piss
the rest of them away. What
happened to the Joe Hewitt I used
to know? The one who wanted to help
people.
JOE
That guys dead. Its a common side
effect of getting shot.
Eric shakes his head and gets up to leave but stops to turn
back to Joe.
ERIC
Its been eighteen years, buddy.
The pity party should have been
over a long time ago.
Eric gives him a disgusted look and walks off as Joe throws
back a beer and BURPS loud enough for Eric to hear.
EXT. WET WEASEL BAR - SIDE ALLEY - NIGHT
Joe steps into the alley and lights a cigarette. He closes
his eyes and enjoys the first drag.
He opens them again only to be staring at KERRA, a
combination of awkward teenager and the kind of etherial
beauty that you are drawn to but cant explain why.
KERRA
Hi. How are you?
JOE
Sorry, Kid, Im not looking for a
trick tonight.
KERRA
Im not a whore. Im your daughter,
Kerra.
Beat

7.

JOE
Well... then Im glad youre not a
whore. But Im also not into the
whole daddy issue thing.
KERRA
Maybe I wouldnt have any if you
hadnt left me to be raised by my
mother.
JOE
Ive never left anyone, and I dont
have a daughter. That includes you.
Joe stamps out his cigarette and starts to walk away.
KERRA
Grace.
Joe stops.
JOE
Excuse me?
KERRA
Grace, thats my Mothers name. She
was your nurse after you were shot.
JOE
Yeah, I remember. Its kind of hard
to forget the woman who nursed you
back to health, stole your heart
and then trampled on it as she
walked out the door without so much
as a goodbye, ruining the
possibility of ever finding love
again. Thanks for the walk down
memory lane. My cat was eaten by a
coyote when I was a kid. Should we
talk about that one next?
KERRA
She wasnt actually your nurse.
JOE
Well, I remember it differently.
And I was there.
KERRA
She was supposed to be your angel
of death. You may remember her
better as a woman in white who
visited you on the casino floor.

8.

An image of the Woman in White pops into Joes head.

JOE
That was just a fever dream. I
never even told anyone about it.
KERRA
But I still know about it because
it was real. You were supposed to
die on that casino floor, but my
mom couldnt do it. Said there was
just something about you.
Personally, youre not living up to
the hype.
JOE
All right, Im done. Word of
advice, stick with the Daddy play.
It probably has a bit more
universal appeal.
Joe turns and walks away.
JOE
Try that story inside the bar, kid.
Youll have better luck with the
drunks.
EXT. WET WEASEL BAR - FRONT - CONTINUOUS
Joe rounds the corner and stops when he sees a limo parked
next to the curb. Two huge GOONS stand next to an open door.
GOON 1
The Boss would like a word.
JOE
Christ, you too? Cant a guy just
go to a bar and drink alone
anymore?
Goon 1 points to the open door.
INT. LIMO - MOMENTS LATER
Joe plops down on the backseat of the limo. The goons taking
a place on each side of him.
SALVATORE BARTUCCI, the last of the gentlemen gangsters. A
man who would invite you over for Sunday afternoon tea, but
just as soon kill you if you insulted his mother while you
were there, sits across from them.

9.

BARTUCCI
Joseph, so glad you could join us.
JOE
You know I hate it when you call me
that.
THUMP! Goon 2 punches Joe in the ribs.
JOE
Okay, thats not going to work for
me.
BARTUCCI
I apologize for my overzealous
employee. Old habits and all. But
I didnt come here to argue. I need
your help.
JOE
You could have called.
THUMP! Another punch.
JOE
Seriously, dont do that again.
GOON 2
Or what?
Bartucci holds up his hand to silence them.
BARTUCCI
Im sure youve heard about our
little incident that went down over
the weekend.
JOE
I have. I said there was no way you
would have done it. Now youve gone
and made me look like an asshole.
THUMP! A third punch to Joes ribs.
JOE
All right, thats it.
Joe turns and HEADBUTTS Goon 2. He grabs the reeling man,
slams his face into the passenger window and holds it there
while he lands a flurry of blows to the goons ribs.
Bartucci does nothing to stop him.

10.

JOE
Does that answer your question? How
do you like it?
Joe figures the goon has had enough and turns back to
Bartucci.
JOE
Sorry, old habits.
BARTUCCI
I can see youre not in the mood to
talk right now. Thats fair. Im
having a little family barbecue
tomorrow. Why dont you stop by and
we can talk then.
JOE
Youre not going to take no for an
answer, are you?
BARTUCCI
Weve got a big problem on our
hands. I need you on this one.
JOE
Well, its nice to be wanted.
BARTUCCI
Excellent. Mother will be thrilled.
Shes always afraid you dont eat
enough.
Bartucci knocks on the partition between him and the driver.
The limo comes to a stop and Goon 1 opens the door for Joe to
get out.
INT. SHADY APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT
Joe walks down the hallway of the type of apartment building
that lets people who think theyve hit rock bottom know
theres always farther to go.
He stops when he comes across an apartment with a forced in
door. He draws his weapon and proceeds cautiously in.
INT. DUMPY APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS
Joe steps a few steps into the apartment, eyes straining to
peer into the darkness.

11.

BOOM! A baseball bat to the face crumbles him to the floor,

his weapon skittering out of reach.
A pair of shoes walks into his vision. He looks up to see
SERVANDO MARTINEZ, the local cartel leader with no care to be
a gentleman gangster. Do what he wants, or you die.
FRANCISCO CALDERON, Servandos most trusted and violent
lieutenant, moves in behind Servando. He grins as he holds a
bloody baseball bat in his hands.
JOE
Hey guys, make yourselves at home.
If Id known you were coming, I
would have had dinner ready.
SERVANDO
Plata O Plomo?
JOE
What?
SERVANDO
Plata O Plomo. Silver or lead.
Servando holds up an envelope of cash in one hand and a gun
in the other.
JOE
I know what it means. I just... you
know were not in Mexico, right?
You might not like the reaction you
get up here if you start killing
cops.
Servando squats down to look Joe in the eyes.
SERVANDO
Do you know why the cartels are so
successful? We dont wait for
success to come to us. If we see
something we want, we take it. If
we cant take it, we destroy it.
JOE
That seems a bit immature.
SERVANDO
Knowing that, which are you going
to choose? Plata, you come work for
us and we all grow rich. Or plomo,
you decide to stay loyal to your
friend Bartucci.

12.

Francisco pulls out a gun.

Joe starts to laugh.
SERVANDO
Is something funny?
JOE
Nothing. Its just that my friend
and I were wondering about who
would be stupid enough to cross
Bartucci. I guess I found the
answer.
Francisco cocks the hammer on the gun.
KERRA (O.S.)
Am I interrupting?
Everyone looks up to see Kerra standing in the doorway.
Servando leers her up and down.
SERVANDO
Not at all. Francisco, please help
welcome our new guest.
Francisco moves towards Kerra.
KERRA
Francisco! Thats a fun name to
say.
Francisco reaches out for Kerra but she grabs his wrist
first. Francisco stops, stiff as a board. His eyes go wide in
fright. IMAGES of his violent past FLASH in front of his
eyes.
SERIES OF IMAGES
A convenience store armed robbery as a teenager.
He stomps on a bloodied and defenseless OPPONENT hes already
beaten in a fight.
Beating a HOOKER who does not have his money.
Hanging a rival CARTEL MEMBERS body from a billboard.
He shoots a RIVAL GANG MEMBER, execution style.
KERRA
Uh oh, Francisco, youve been a
naughty boy.
(MORE)

13.

KERRA (CONT'D)
Who knew you could pack that much
pain and violence into such a short
life? Youre not going to fare too
well on your judgement day.
(whispers in his ear)
But dont worry, its still a few
days away. Maybe you have time to
change that.
Kerra lets go of his wrist and Francisco tumbles to the
ground. He half rises, half crawls as he scrambles out the
door muttering prayers to himself.
She turns to Servando.
KERRA
Would you like to know your future
as well?
Kerra enters the room, a predator stalking her prey. Servando
slowly backs away from her until he can retreat out the door.
Kerra watches him go, then turns to Joe as he pulls himself
up against the wall.
KERRA
Do you believe me now?
JOE
I dont disbelieve you.
Kerra holds out her hand.
KERRA
Would you like me to show you?
Would that help?
JOE
Ill pass, thanks. Just tell me
what you want from me.
KERRA
My eighteenth birthday is coming up
soon. I have been given a choice. I
can either be a full Reaper or a
full human. Heaven is tired of me
being half way between the two. I
need you to teach me about being
human.
JOE
Im not a role model.

14.

KERRA
You dont have a choice.
JOE
Of course I do. Choice is our
defining characteristic.
KERRA
Let me rephrase. I need to see if
humanity is worth it. You are the
one who is going to show me. If I
decide they arent, and become a
Reaper, youre to be my first
assignment.
JOE
Well, when you put it that way,
lets start with the Father of the
Year question. When is your
birthday?
KERRA
You have thirty days.
Joe lights a cigarette and chuckles.
JOE
Ill be dead in three.
INT. HOSPITAL - PATIENT ROOM - PATIENT POV - DAY
Plain grey ceiling, static yellow lights and the mechanical,
repetitive heavy breathing of a respirator.
Shadowed forms of NURSES and DOCTORS cycle in and out as they
routinely check on the patient.
The shadows part, revealing GRACE. Her radiant face smiles
down at him in her nurses uniform.
A hospital machine BEEPS in the background. Loud and
constant.
INT. JOES APARTMENT - MORNING
Joe snaps awake to the grating sound of the alarm clock. Hes
sprawled half on and half off the couch, a mound of clothes
piled up as a makeshift pillow.
Kerra flutters around the rooms as she cleans and puts
everything in place.

15.

JOE
What time is it?
KERRA
Ten.
JOE
In the morning?! Who sets the alarm
for that early?
KERRA
I do. Theres a whole world out
there to experience.
Joe sits up on the couch and rubs his temples.
JOE
No offense, but I was kind of
hoping last night was a fever
dream.
KERRA
You do realize that whenever
someone says, no offense, they
are about to say something really
offensive?
JOE
Give me a break. Yesterday morning
I was a perfectly happy malcontent.
Today I either have an insta-family
or Im taken out on a Heaven
sanctioned hit. Sorry if thats a
lot to wrap my head around.
KERRA
Start wrapping. We have a lot to do
today.
JOE
Cant wait to hear about it.
KERRA
Well, I want to drive a car, learn
to cook, shoot a gun, visit where
Twilight is from and eat delicious
foods... just to start.
JOE
Let me answer those in order;
maybe, Ill have to find someone
who knows how to cook, hell no,
Twilights not real and I can
probably make that last one happen.

DISJECTA MEMBRA

Written by
J. Weiman

EXT. HOUSTON, TEXAS - BUS STOP - DAY

A GRUNGY WOMAN (20s) puts coin into a newspaper vending box,
takes the whole stack. Her equally grubby GIRL (8) anxiously
keeps guard. Nearby, an OLD MAN sits on a bench, slowly eats
a pear, reads the paper. HEADLINE on the front page Reads:
PERVERSE COWGIRLS: COPS NAB UNDERGROUND PROSTITUTION RING
EXT. SAMMYS BARBECUE JOINT - SAME TIME
MELVIN (32), a scrawny short-order, reads the paper, SMOKES.
Long legs in cuffed jeans & Doc Marten boots walk toward him:
Detective CARMEN BRIGGO (40). He offers a high-five, grins.
CARMEN
Woah, woah. I put thirty-five
hookers out of commission & youre
not even a little pissed at me?
Her looks brazen, her physiques lithe-by-luck. Often sports
eyeliner too heavy for daytime beneath ever-present Aviator
sunglasses. Melvin puts his hand down, left hanging.
MELVIN
Huh-ho! You a famous celebrity now?
She nods at his burning cigarette.
CARMEN
Trade my autograph for one of them.
MELVIN
Take the rest of my pack, jefa.
They calling you Houstons
Finest. Thats some high praise.
He lights her CIGARETTE. She drags deep like shes missed it.
CARMEN
Never took you for a reader.
MELVIN
Between us: were these high-class
prosties ya busted? Ones Spitzer
would fuck with? Or like, these the
bitches let you put it anywhere,
anydeep?
She reluctantly quashes the cig, walks to the SERVICE ENTRY.
CARMEN
Stimulating as usual, Melvin.

2.
INT. SAMMYS BARBECUE JOINT - MOMENTS LATER
A BUTCHER slaps sliced BRISKET on a red basket lined w/ wax
paper over a clipping of newspaper, drenches it in sauce.
Sixteen NEAR-RAW STEAKS sizzle on the grill.
Carmens at the counter, Aviators pushed up into SILVER HAIR,
small, thick SCAR below RIGHT EYE. She absentmindedly traces
it w/ her finger, watches a YOUNG COUPLE: Guy picks loose
EYELASH off Girls face. As Carmen is fixed on this image:
INSTANT FLASHBACK: 1960s-style bathroom. Young Carmen sits on
the sink, a handsome young man w/ caring VIOLET EYES nurses a
gash below her swollen right eye. She leans in, kisses him.
BACK TO REALITY: SAMMY, owner & head cook, places two large
white bags on counter. Carmen hands him her CREDIT CARD.
SAMMY
You think Im gonna make Houstons
Finest pay for this meal, then I
dont like how you think of me.
CARMEN
Ten percent discount. Any guff, I
walk out empty handed and the moocows died for nothing.
He runs her card. She takes a Sammys MATCHBOOK, pockets it.
SAMMY
You and your matches. Thought you
were trying to quit.
She smiles politely. He hands her the receipt, she signs.
SAMMY (CONTD)
Toothpicks and sunflower seeds,
thats how I quit; ice cold turkey.
They help with the oral fixation.
CARMEN
Huh. The hookers had some similar
advice but I think I like yours
better. Thanks a million, Sammy.
She grabs the two bags of food off the counter.
INT. PRECINCT - AFTERNOON
Carmen enters w/ the bags. Anyone she passes commends her,
pats her back. Well respected, shes a pretty big deal around
here. She places the bags on a table, then stands on a chair.

3.
CARMEN
Alright. Listen up, please.
Smallish CROWD gathers. Present is Carmens partner of seven
years, NEIL ELLIMAN (42), amused by her flair for dramatics.
CARMEN (CONTD)
I realize theres a little
excitement due to our recent
success and the, uh...the article.
I stress our success since it was
through the collective efforts of
you fine people here that we
clinched it. So weve got a little
steak dinner for those of you
wholl work later than you should
tonight. Again. Thanks a million.
Some in the group whistle, some clap.
CARMEN (CONTD)
And its from Neil, too. So...
Several turn to Neil, pat him jovially. He smiles, abashed.
CARMEN (CONTD)
Right bags rare, left bags
bloody. Rest of you pussies enjoy
the PBJs your momma packed for you.
INT. PRECINCT - CARMEN AND NEILS SHARED OFFICE - LATER
Neil enters. Carmen works on a report, toothpick in mouth.
NEIL
Very generous. Steaks for everyone
and she puts my name on the card.
CARMEN
Dont make a thing, Neil.
NEIL
Its just--doing something for the
staff didnt even occur to me.
Those are the kind of things
Roberta was real helpful with-CARMEN
Hey. Fuck Roberta, remember? That
crusty bitch is in the past, and
sos dinner. And I wouldnt call it
generous so much as misdirection.
That raid was chicken-shit.

4.
NEIL
Its good for morale.
CARMEN
Morales nice, but if we dont make
headway with this Brother John
shit, morale loses luster fast.
NEIL
Well get there-CARMEN
The guys a phantom. We dont know
how he looks, where he lives, where
hes from-NEIL
But we know hes been in town. The
guy is like the Prada of ingestible
narcotics. Sooner or later, hes
gotta show his fall collection.
She looks at him, amused & confused by the fashion analogy.
NEIL (CONTD)
(sheepish)
Roberta got me into Project
Runway...
Carmen gives a stern look at the second mention of Roberta.
NEIL (CONTD)
...Fuck Roberta.
CARMEN
Fuck. Roberta.
Neil approaches the CORK BOARD: PHOTOS of VARIOUS CRIMINALS.
The picture of Brother John is just a BLACK QUESTION MARK.
NEIL
I still say we stay focused on Ren
Haas. Press him for info on Brother
John. If anyone in Texas knows this
guy, it could just be Haas.
CARMEN
No, hed more likely distribute
through Etziel Gordo, right? Haas
is comparatively a joke.
NEIL
Which is why he should be easier to
nail. And we will get there.

5.
She returns to her report. He pulls a CIGAR from his pocket.
NEIL (CONTD)
Dont judge. I was gonna celebrate,
myself. Still trying to quit?
CARMEN
Hence, the toothpick.
NEIL
Thats really great. Still cool if
I grab some matches?
Carmen signals toward the large JAR of MATCHBOOKS shes
collected. Neil takes a GREEN one off the top and reads it.
NEIL (CONTD)
Strikers Island Bowling Alley.
Thought pool was strictly your
game.
Shes a little thrown off, but recovers quickly.
CARMEN
Bad blind date.
NEIL
Oh, man. You on a date. Poor guy.
Neil LIGHTS the cigar. Carmen inhales the second-hand, closes
her eyes. A KNOCK. BRENDA the ADMIN (59), pokes her head in.
ADMINISTRATIVE
Sorry. Briggo, Sergeant Culligan
wants to see you.
Carmen looks at Neil, her dread apparent.
INT. PRECINCT - SERGEANT CULLIGANS OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER
Carmen chews on toothpick. TROY CULLIGAN (66) has NEWSPAPER
spread open. We see Big Articles photo: Carmen cuffing a
scantily-clad hooker. (Neils the blurry smudge in the b.g.)
Culligan wears a blank face, folds the paper. Quiet, tense.
CULLIGAN
Ive known you since Academy. You
were green as a frogs asshole. Yet
you managed to make a real niche
for yourself here. Not easy to do.
Carmen nods slightly, trying to follow where this is going.

6.
CULLIGAN (CONTD)
Folks dont much like cops. Thats
why youre so good at it. Youre
good at being hated, Briggo.
CARMEN
Thank you, sir.
CULLIGAN
No secret Ive been puttering
toward retirement a while now. And
Tom wants to move to Marthas
Vineyard, of all places...
CARMEN
Ill be sorry to see you go, sir.
CULLIGAN
Not for long. Ive put you forward
as my recommended replacement.
Carmen eyes him, a little dubious, then breaks into a smile.
CARMEN
Well, shit. Troy--I mean--sir, I
dont know how to thank you...
CULLIGAN
Just dont drop the ball. Dont
make me look foolish.
She stands. They shake hands. Carmens phone CHIMES from a
TEXT. She casually takes a look. Her face grows CLOUDY.
CULLIGAN (CONTD)
Now, Ill stick around another
month, finish out the quarter. So
keep the good news under wraps
until its made official next week.
Carmen recovers, putting her happy face back on and nodding.
CARMEN
Thank you again. Its an honor.
CULLIGAN
By the by, where are we with this
Brother John case? He would be a
huge get for us, Briggo-Neil knocks once before bursting in, winded.
NEIL
So sorry, sir. I need Briggo. Now.

7.
INT. BLACK ROOM - EVENING
A strange maze-like room w/ black walls, partitions, floors.
Sparse neon beams hang slanted & haphazardly, providing the
only source of foggy light.
In a corner, KELSEY (19) & MIGUEL (21) stand shoulders
touching, breathing heavy. Both sport SKI CAPS & WAR PAINT
beneath eyes, clutch MAC 11 MACHINE GUNS to chests & converse
entirely in husky whisper during exchanges in the BLACK ROOM:
KELSEY
Shit. Shit! Were stuck. Were out
of options.
MIGUEL
No. We can still do this.
KELSEY
No. Theyve called for back-up by
now. Wed have to kill our way out.
MIGUEL
So we agree: there is an option.
Her eyes glitter with surprise at the suggestion.
EXT. STREETS OF HOUSTON - SAME TIME
A navy Ford Taurus topped with wailing sirens weaves
dangerously through traffic.
INT. CARMENS CAR - CONTINUOUS
RADIO VOICE
Weve determined an exact location.
800 Fent Plaza. Old strip mall.
CARMEN
Copy, ETA about 3 minutes. Hold off
on back-up until you hear from me.
RADIO VOICE
If I may say, kudos on the article.
Gosh, you looked like friggin
Linda Hamilton in Terminator-Annoyed, Neil switches off the radio.
NEIL
What did Culligan want earlier?
Usual B.S.

CARMEN

8.
NEIL
Rumor has it hell be picking his
replacement soon. Fingers crossed.
CARMEN
What do you think were about to
walk into here?
NEIL
Haas and crew. No
All the planning,
then an A-non tip
my lap on a balmy

doubt about it.

failed busts...
just falls into
Thursday evening.

CARMEN
See? Patience, Neil. Its a
motherfuckin virtue.
She HONKS at the car ahead, then SWERVES around it.
INT. BLACK ROOM - MOMENTS LATER
Kelsey listens at the wall, absently scratches her left arm.
KELSEY
So, what, we just wait til they
burst in here and nail us?
MIGUEL
Thats when we strike. They come
through, shoot anything that moves.
She nods, considering the plan.
MIGUEL (CONTD)
You close with your family?
KELSEY
Youre asking me that right now?
MIGUEL
Anxious under pressure. The nervous
scratching. Tics like that usually
come from uneven upbringing. So...?
KELSEY
So, go fuck yourself: thats where
it comes from, okay?
MIGUEL
Come on. You can ask me anything.
May as well get a little personal,
in case things dont go as planned--

9.
KELSEY
Hey. This is no time for doubt.
Just focus on getting out clear.
MIGUEL
Yeah. Okay, youre right. Sorry.
EXT. FENT PLAZA STRIP - MOMENTS LATER
Carmen and Neil turn into the deserted strip center of shops.
NEIL
Hey, kill the siren.
She ignores, drives slow toward MAJORS JEWELRY OUTLET, whose
front windows are busted out.
NEIL (CONTD)
Carmen. Turn the siren off.
She complies this time.
INT. BLACK ROOM - SAME TIME
MIGUEL
You hear that? Get ready.
Kelsey nods anxiously, getting into position.
EXT. MAJORS JEWELRY STORE - MOMENTS LATER
A LARGE MAN lays unconscious in front. Neil grabs his GUN.
NEIL
Someone may have tipped them off.
Ill call for back-up in case-CARMEN
No! Not yet.
Neil balks at this, confused as to what shes playing at.
INT. BLACK ROOM - MOMENTS LATER
Kelsey begins to scratch again, but stops herself this time.
KELSEY
They have more men, better
resources. Were done for, nil, if
we hesitate for even one secondMIGUEL
So we wont hesitate.

10.
A beat. He kisses her hard. She looks at him, stunned.
MIGUEL (CONTD)
Now, come on. We can do this.
EXT. MAJORS JEWELRY STORE - MOMENTS LATER
CARMEN
You take front, I got the back.
NEIL
Briggo. We really should-CARMEN
No time, Neil. Check out John Doe,
then scan the rooms in front. GO!
He reluctantly gets out, she hits the gas. Neil checks JOHN
DOES pulse; Does been SHOT in chest, stomach, BLEEDS from
his head. Neil pulls out his RADIO.
NEIL
Detective Elliman requesting backup
and ambulance to 800 Fent Plaza.
Man down, ID currently unknown.
RADIO VOICE
Copy. Backup has been dispatched.
Neil stands and follows his gun into the small shop.
INT. MAJORS JEWELRY STORE - MOMENTS LATER
Shattered glass all over, only light is from outside. Neil
approaches a door in back, hears GLASS crunch into floor.
NEIL
Come out with your hands on your
head! Im armed, youre surrounded!
INT. BLACK ROOM - MOMENTS LATER
NOW!

MIGUEL

BLACK METAL BLARES, they move fast around a wall pulling

trigger w/ eyes shut. We hear only music & see ONLY THEIR
FACES, tight w/ strain as they fire nonstop.
EXT. MAJORS JEWELRY STORE (BACK)- MOMENTS LATER
TWO ROBBERS exit as Carmen screeches to a halt beside them,
passenger window rolled down. The thieves stare, eyes wide
under MASKS: A tense, dead-silent beat.

11.
CARMEN
(panicked)
GET THE FUCK IN!
They climb in, duck down as Carmen peels out the back lot.
Neil kicks door open in time to see her speed away.
CARMEN!

NEIL

INT. BLACK ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Kelsey & Miguel are still on rampage: eyes shut, firing until
their guns are dry. Now, theres no music: just the meek
sound of LASER GUNS.
SUDDENLY, THE LIGHTS COME ON.
Kelsey & Miguel blink to adjust, drop their plastic toy
weapons. SIX OTHER PLAYERS in the room, all early-teens.
MAN ON INTERCOM (O.S.)
Sizzurp Kings win. Better luck next
time to Laser? I Hardly Knew Her.
MIGUEL
Oh, come on!
BUZZ (14), scrawny redhead pizza face walks up to them.
BUZZ
Bro, you tried. Fail with grace.
MIGUEL
Oh, thanks, Bro.
BUZZ
Yeah, keep the tip.
(to Kelsey)
Hey, Cutie. Names Buzz. Cuz youll
think I must be battery operated.

Wow.

KELSEY

No.

MIGUEL

BUZZ (CONTD)
Im at the snack bar til nine.
MIGUEL
What happens at nine? Your balls
complete The Big Drop or your stepmom picks you up in her minivan?
Buzz scowls, returns to mates. Kelsey & Miguel look at each
other, bemused. They exit the Laserplex, holding hands.

12.
INT. CARMENS CAR - MOMENTS LATER
Carmen drives fast. One robber pulls his mask above his face.
This is the notorious REN HAAS (43).
CARMEN
Did you take care of the cameras?
REN
Relax, Peach. Aint my first Rodeo.
But Ill let you ride me anyway.
CARMEN
I am not your last minute wheelman.
Dont ever pull that again. What
happened to Dante back there?
REN
In cahoots with Etziel Gordo. Fuck
with my nemesis, play me for a
fool? I respond without stutter.
CARMEN
You OFFED one of your men mid-heist
and left his body for evidence. I
call that a fucking stutter.
REN
I shot Dante with his own gun. They
cant trace it. Dont get worked upCARMEN
My partner just watched me ditch a
crime scene with no explanation.
REN
Elliman dont got a damn clue-CARMEN
We dont know what he saw. Your
antics could have put me in deep
fucking shit here, Ren!
REN
You kiss your laundered money with
that mouth? Nice article, by the
by. Way to fly under radar, Peach.
CARMEN
I told you not to call me that
anymore. Wheres the damn car?
REN
Hang the next right, Peach.

13.
Sharp right, she stops beside a black IMPALA. Rens companion
exits. Ren stays inside to chat.
REN (CONTD)
Fuzz, ditch this sham of a day job
already. Come with us full-time.
Head of Security, how about it?
CARMEN
Theyre promoting me, Ren.
REN
Oh. That right? Well, thats good
news for everyone. Higher clearanceCARMEN
Come on. We both knew this was
temporary. Its gotten way too
risky for me.
REN
Is this about Alice again? Weve
been over this-APPROACHING SIRENS.
REN (CONTD)
Well finish this chat tomorrow.
Ren blows a KISS, gets out, crosses to face her car, points a
GUN at her. She ducks. BANG. BANG. Twice to WINDSHIELD.
He DIVES into the Impala as it takes off.
Seconds later, TWO COP CARS arrive. Carmen opens door, leans
out, VOMITS BLOOD on the asphalt.
INT. SUNSHINE DINER - LATER
Kelsey & Miguel continue their date. Shes a ringer for Young
Carmen, save for VIOLET EYES. Miguels the lanky, handsome
brainiac-type, w/ loose curls & a boyish, winning grin.
KELSEY
I havent played laser tag since I
was a kid. I got so into it.
MIGUEL
Yeah, but my idea of a successful
second date doesnt typically
include getting upstaged by a
prepubescent ginger on a powertrip.
KELSEY
Yeah, but...you did kiss me.

14.
MIGUEL
Did I? Oh, right, I did. And after
you told me to go fuck myself.
KELSEY
Oh my God, I know. Im sorry-MIGUEL
No, I shouldn't have asked all that
stuff. But we psych majors commonly
suffer from the verbal diarrhea-KELSEY
No, youre trying to get to know
me. I just get touchy about family.
My dad died before I was born, and
well, Freud would probably say my
anxieties largely do stem from my
relationship with mom, so...
MIGUEL
(solemnly)
Well, Im sure were the only two
people alive dealing with that.
KELSEY
Youre funny.
MIGUEL
But am I funnier than Buzz?
She laughs.
INT. AMBULETTE - LATER
Carmen, Neil, an EMT, and comatose DANTE. Carmens skin is
sallow, shes clearly ill. She clutches her belly, struggles
to conceal her inner panic. Neil holds up DANTES WALLET.
NEIL
Dante Villalobos. Works for Haas,
pretty sure. Got a pulse but they
say hes in a vegetative state.
CARMEN
Yeah? Ill gladly trade him states.
NEIL
I hate to ask now, but we need a
statement. Im having trouble
making sense of what happened-CARMEN
I told you, I was chasing them.

15.
NEIL
I didnt see another car.
CARMEN
He had a big start on me, thats
why I had to go for it. I caught
up, pulled them over...Haas got
out, gun aimed right at me-NEIL
So you did see Haass face?
CARMEN
No, they wore masks, but-NEIL
Dammit, you know its useless
without a positive ID.
Her eyes close, she sways with the rhythm of the moving van.
NEIL (CONTD)
Sorry. I know you want to see him
brought down just as badly as me.
Here, lie down. Try and relax.
She curls into fetal, closes her eyes.
Neil regards the wallet, opens it:
Wallet contents: CASH. CREDIT CARDS. A worn, green BUSINESS
CARD for Strikers Island Bowling. Neil squints from it to
Carmens back. More than coincidence?
INT. SUNSHINE DINER - LATER
Miguel & Kelsey hold hands across the table. Her phone rings.
KELSEY
Houston area code. Cool if I...?
He nods. She slides out of the booth, walks to cafe entry.
KELSEY (CONTD)
This is Kelsey Briggo?...Oh, hi
Donna...Im okay, Im actually kind
of with a boy right now...Oh...
Okay, so is she--...Okay...Okay.
Well, thanks for calling, I guess.
I better get back inside...You too.
BACK INSIDE, she slides into the booth.
MIGUEL
Everything cool?

BLOOD MOON
(8.17.14 draft)
by Rich Figel

INT. LIVING ROOM, SAN FRANCISCO PENTHOUSE - NIGHT

Steam rises from a delicate bowl as hot water mixes with
green powder inside it. A WOMAN speaks in broken English.
WOMAN'S VOICE
You bring money?
A wad of cash is dropped on a low black-lacquer table.
Kneeling on a floor pillow, the woman tucks the cash in her
obi. She is MRS. YUKO TAKEDA, 60s, second generation JapaneseAmerican, but her kimono is more befitting of a geisha.
WOMAN/MRS. TAKEDA
I mean, I knew you had it. That my
job, yeah? Still, my powers work
better if not clouded with such
details...
She sips the tea. Closes her eyes. A strange RUMBLING NOISE
causes her to peer deep into the bowl. In it, she sees -A BLAZING SUN
We hear vicious GROWLING as the rumbling transforms into the
rhythmic pounding of TAIKO DRUMS.
A man's hand dangles raw meat before the mouth of a MAD DOG,
which is buried in dirt up to its neck.
The starving dog snaps at the meat as the man recites an
ancient Japanese chant. Then a SAMURAI SWORD slashes across
the sun's face and the dog is silenced.
MRS. TAKEDA
recoils from her vision. The fortune teller looks up from
the bowl of tea. Her glazed eyes focus on the unseen CLIENT.
MRS. TAKEDA
You must go. Here, take back!
She removes the cash from her obi, desperately holds it out.
Her hands tremble.
BUZZZZ. The intercom startles her. She bows her head.
MRS. TAKEDA
Chotto matte, kudasai.

2.
INT. FRONT DOOR, PENTHOUSE - CONTINUOUS
Mrs. Takeda stares at a security monitor, which shows a grainy
image of the building entrance. The picture SCRAMBLES, then
goes black. She presses the INTERCOM button.
MRS. TAKEDA
Hello? Who's there?
No response. She turns -A DECREPIT JAPANESE MAN
in a business suit stands behind her. His face is ravaged by
cancer. Nose and mouth eaten away. Larynx removed, leaving a
"stoma," which he smokes through. His name is BENJAMIN MORI.
MRS. TAKEDA
Mori-san, you startled me!
(forces a smile)
Someone must have pressed the wrong
button. Forgive me for acting so...
strangely. We can continue, if you
like. No charge.
He looks down, shuffles toward the door. She opens it.
MRS. TAKEDA
Next week, same time?
The mute client pauses, squints at her. A thin smile appears
on his lips below the slits where his nose used to be.
She nods, closes the door after he leaves. Checks the security
monitor again. The screen is still blacked out.
INT. KITCHEN, PENTHOUSE - LATER
Mrs. Takeda empties the rest of the tea into the sink. She
hears SCRATCHING on wood. Looks towards the hallway.
No... no.

MRS. TAKEDA

The noise gets louder. Something is CLAWING at the front

door. She stares at the tea leaves in the sink -FLASH ON:

A DOG'S SEVERED HEAD

Mrs. Takeda grabs a KNIFE. Cautiously moves into...

3.
INT. HALLWAY, PENTHOUSE - CONTINUOUS
The lights FLICKER. As the fortune teller walks towards the
front door, we see it's open a sliver. She inches forward,
grasping the knife tight -- so tight she doesn't realize
it's cutting into her own index finger.
A DROP OF BLOOD from her finger stains her kimono. Her body
goes rigid. Someone... or something is in the hallway. Behind
her. She feels its breath on her neck. Hears a low GRRRR...
A DARK SHADOW raises up, GROWLS. Resigned to her fate, she
closes her eyes. Whispers -MRS. TAKEDA
Shikata ga nai.
Razor-sharp teeth and claws RIP through her kimono. Blood
spurts and spatters against the white walls.
INT. SUTTER STREET DINER - NIGHT
An old school greasy spoon place, which is how the few loyal
patrons prefer it would stay. Alone in a back end booth,
retired cop JACK MCVAY (60s) wearily looks up from his coffee.
JACK
You should've called me sooner.
MICHAEL MCVAY (40s) sits in the booth across from him. Stoic
demeanor, yet you sense something is eating him inside.
MICHAEL
Can you help me or not?
JACK
I tried, but Internal Affairs does
everything by the book now. Mike,
listen... times have changed.
He pauses as the silver-haired WAITRESS, still foxy, sashays
over with a pot of steaming hot coffee.
WAITRESS
You boys want coffee or anything?
MICHAEL
No thanks, ma'am.
WAITRESS
(to Jack)
Your son got good manners. Guess he
doesn't take after the old man, eh?

4.
She winks, leaves. Jack looks his son in the eye.
JACK
What matters is the crooks got what
they deserved. As long as you stayed
within the boundaries of the law,
the system will protect you.
MICHAEL
Even if what I did was wrong?
JACK
That's not for you to judge. We don't
make the laws.
Michael opens his mouth. Clams up just as his cell RINGS.
MICHAEL
McVay.
(listens)
I'll be right there.
He ends the call, appears perplexed. So does dad.
JACK
I thought you were on desk duty.
MICHAEL
Yeah, I am. They wanna question me
about a homicide.
(gets up)
Forget it. I got myself into this.
I'll get myself out of it.
JACK
Are you all right? Cathryn called.
She's worried -MICHAEL
About what? Her alimony payments?
(angry)
Cathryn left me. I'm not the one who
moved away.
JACK
She asked your mother to put flowers
on Lisa's grave. Why can't you do
it? She's your daughter -MICHAEL
What's the point. It won't bring her
back.

5.
EXT. SUTTER STREET DINER - NIGHT
Jack exits, sees Michael walking away.
JACK
Mike... hold on.
His son stops. Dad looks around, then hands Michael a HANDGUN.
JACK
Just because you had to turn in your
gun, doesn't mean you ought to give
up the right to defend yourself.
There's evil bastards out there who
want you dead.
Reluctantly, Michael slips the gun in his waistband.
EXT. LUXURY HIGHRISE, SAN FRANCISCO - NIGHT
Michael surveys the area as he approaches the building. It's
an upscale neighborhood near the financial district. An area
with a shady past that has been transformed by new money and
rising property values.
He walks over to a UNIFORMED COP positioned at the entrance,
looks up at a SECURITY CAMERA above the glass doors.
MICHAEL
No guards or doorman?
UNIFORMED COP
The owners figured they could save a
few bucks by installing cameras.
Sir... were you, um, reinstated?
Michael ignores the question as a "NEWS 5" VAN pull up.
MICHAEL
Keep those vultures out.
INT. FRONT DOOR/HALLWAY, PENTHOUSE - NIGHT
FORENSICS SPECIALISTS gather evidence as Michael studies the
blood spatter on the wall. It looks like abstract art.
SAKAMOTO
Detective McVay?

(O.S.)

Michael nods. Shakes hands with WES SAKAMOTO, 30s, JapaneseAmerican. Easy-going guy, who smiles too much for a cop.

6.
SAKAMOTO
Wes Sakamoto. Homicide.
(beat)
She was attacked here in the hallway,
then dragged into the den.
Michael looks down at the bloody trail on the floor.
MICHAEL
That much I deduced. But why'd you
call me?
SAKAMOTO
The victim's name is Yuko Takeda.
MICHAEL
Doesn't ring any bells.
SAKAMOTO
She was a fortune teller.
MICHAEL
Too bad she didn't foresee her own
death.
SAKAMOTO
Actually, she did. Before we get to
that, I'd like your input. I heard
you have a knack for finding clues
no one else sees.
MICHAEL
Finding or 'planting'?
SAKAMOTO
I wasn't trying to be funny. I'm on
your side. Screw the D.A.
INT. DEN, PENTHOUSE - CONTINUOUS
They step around Mrs. Takeda's bloody, disemboweled corpse.
Her head is missing. It appears to have been torn off.
MICHAEL
What the hell happened?
SAKAMOTO
We think she was attacked by an animal
of some sort. Maybe more than one.
MICHAEL
Dogs? I've seen pit bulls do stuff
like this.

7.
SAKAMOTO
Possibly. Or big cats. Remember that
nut job in midtown New York? He was
keeping a pet tiger in his apartment.
MICHAEL
Sneaking a tiger in and out would be
kind of tough. Anything on the
security video?
SAKAMOTO
The cameras were disabled. Whoever
did it knew something about wiring
and surveillance systems.
Michael glances around the room. Her office set-up and decor
indicates she was a savvy business woman with an interest in
real estate and art.
MICHAEL
Mrs. Takeda was raking in some serious
yen, I gather.
SAKAMOTO
Her clients were mostly wealthy
businessmen. The residents also
described Asian men with tattoos,
missing fingers, flashy jewelry.
Could be yakuza from Japan.
They walk over to her desk. Michael squints at a faint, dusty
rectangular outline.
MICHAEL
Her computer's missing.
SAKAMOTO
Along with whatever records she kept
that were on it. But we did receive
an email, in which Mrs. Takeda
mentions you by name.
And...?

MICHAEL

SAKAMOTO
It's best you see it for yourself.
Not here though. The walls have ears.
No need to start more rumors.
INT. LIVING ROOM, PENTHOUSE - CONTINUOUS
On the way out, Michael pauses near the black-lacquer table.
He sees TEA LEAVES inside an ornate box that was left open.

8.
SAKAMOTO
She conducted her readings in this
room. The tea ceremony was part of
her routine.
Michael's eyes dart toward a FRAMED PHOTO sitting on a piece
of furniture that resembles a fancy cabinet. The picture
shows a smiling high school senior, GORO TAKEDA.
MICHAEL
Is that her son?
SAKAMOTO
Goro Takeda. He'd be in his thirties
now. We're checking his alibi...
He reviews his handwritten notes on a small pad.
SAKAMOTO
Goro's been in trouble before. Drugs,
gambling. Even his mother was afraid
of him, from what we've heard.
MICHAEL
So what's his alibi?
SAKAMOTO
He's supposed to be dead.
He stares at Goro's photo and the cabinet it rests on.
SAKAMOTO
This is a butsudan. It's an altar
for deceased family members.
EXT. LUXURY HIGHRISE, SAN FRANCISCO - NIGHT
The uniformed cop holds the media and curious onlookers at
bay. As Michael and Sakamoto exit the building, a TV NEWSWOMAN
thrusts a mic in their faces.
TV NEWSWOMAN
Is it true the victim was torn apart
by some kind of animal?
Michael stops, glares at the cop he spoke to earlier.
MICHAEL
Who told them?
UNIFORMED COP
Building manager tipped 'em off.

9.
SAKAMOTO
(to reporters)
We'll let you know when we have more
information. Thank you.
They continue toward Sakamoto's car. The news crew follows.
TV NEWSWOMAN
Detective, wait up -MICHAEL
Why? You wanna smear me some more?
(turns on her)
Everything I did in the Hernandez
case was legal.
TV NEWSWOMAN
Tricking a suspect into confessing
doesn't seem very ethical.
MICHAEL
Criminals don't tend be very ethical
people. Anyway, I can't comment on
it since it's still under review.
TV NEWSWOMAN
Fine, but what are you doing here?
Weren't you put on administrative
leave?
Michael suppresses a smirk, ducks into Sakamoto's car.
INT. SAKAMOTO'S CAR - MOVING - CONTINUOUS
As Sakamoto pulls out, Michael peers at the faces of reporters
and residents who stare at him. FLASHING blue lights from
police cars give them a ghoulish appearance.
SAKAMOTO
Damn reporters. All they care about
are scandals and gory shit.
(beat)
They've been pretty hard on you.
MICHAEL
I'd rather not talk about it.
He takes out a pack of nicotine gum, pops a tab in his mouth.
SAKAMOTO
My brother tried those. Tough to
quit smoking, huh?

10.
MICHAEL
Nah, it's easy. Quit lots of times.
Bad habits stay in your blood though.
(chews)
Tell me about the email.
SAKAMOTO
Earlier today, Mrs. Takeda sent a
video message to one of her clients,
who forwarded it to us. On it, she
refers to a Detective McVay, and
you're the only cop in San Francisco
by that name.
MICHAEL
Except for my father.
SAKAMOTO
Active police force.
(shakes his head)
I didn't take her email seriously.
Otherwise, we would have contacted
you sooner.
MICHAEL
I'd like to see it. Been awhile since
I had my fortune told.
INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT
At his desk, Sakamoto shows Michael the video message.
ON COMPUTER MONITOR
A herky-jerky image of Mrs. Takeda appears. The contrast is
out of whack, giving her face a stark white glow.
MRS. TAKEDA (V.O.)
By the time you see this, I will
already be dead. I cannot go to the
police, because I have no proof.
Only my visions...
(holds up RED BOOK)
The person behind it is one of my
clients, I believe. However, God
will not reveal to me who it is that
wants me dead or why. Perhaps, it is
because to know one's own fate would
be too much for any person to bear.
(closes her eyes)
Before the next full moon has passed,
the inugami will kill four times. I
do not know who... except for its
last victim. A detective named McVay.

11.
In background, her intercom BUZZES. The video cuts off.
Inugami?

MICHAEL

SAKAMOTO
A person who's possessed by the spirit
of a mad dog. Sort of like a Japanese
werewolf. Frankly, I thought she was
senile. You're certain you never had
any dealings with Mrs. Takeda?
MICHAEL
She could've seen my name in the
papers or on TV because of the
Hernandez coverage. Did you recover
her client book?
SAKAMOTO
That was gone too. The only lead we
have is the woman who forwarded the
email to us. Owns an art gallery.
He picks up a BUSINESS CARD from his desk, hands it to
Michael. It says "WILLOW KOMATSU" in small black type, with
kanji characters above it.
SAKAMOTO
When you were in narcotics, were any
of your, uh, contacts in Japantown?
MICHAEL
I stuck to the Mission District.
Mostly gang-related cases.
He hands the card back. Sakamoto replays Mrs. Takeda's video
frame by frame, as if burning her face into his memory.
SAKAMOTO
There has to be a connection between
you and her.
MICHAEL
(stands)
Let me know when you find it.
SAKAMOTO
Aren't you curious at least, about
how much time you got left?
MICHAEL
Oh... her prediction.

12.
SAKAMOTO
The next full moon is in thirty days.
Which happens to be a lunar eclipse
this year. They call it a Blood Moon
because it turns red when the sun
passes behind it.
MICHAEL
I'm not into astronomy or astrology.
Or superstitions.
SAKAMOTO
But a lot of Asians are...
He grabs a pen and writes on his pad: 4/14/14.
Michael flinches -MEMORY HIT: flashing blue lights reveal the wreckage of an
awful car accident.
SAKAMOTO
That's the date of the eclipse. In
Chinese and Japanese, the number
four is considered bad luck because
it sounds like the word for death.
Studies show Asians have more heart
attacks and strokes on dates with
four in it. It's a very real
phenomenon, not some urban myth.
Michael regains his composure. And his skepticism.
MICHAEL
Lucky I'm not Asian then. Wes, you
seem like a good guy. Smart. Easygoing. Maybe you should look into
another line of work -- like those
paranormal investigators on TV.
(shrugs)
Thanks for your concern, but I don't
buy any of that supernatural crap.
As he heads out the door, Sakamoto replays the Fortune Teller
video one more time. He hears:
MRS. TAKEDA (V.O.)
Before the next full moon has passed,
the inugami will kill four times. I
do not know who... except for its
last victim. A detective named McVay.

13.
INT.

BATHROOM, MICHAEL'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Standing in front of an open medicine cabinet, Michael studies

the pills in his hand. Labeled vials on the shelf identify
them as Ambien, Effexor, OxyContin, Zoloft. Prescription
drugs from A to Z.
He swallows them all in one gulp, chases it with a swig of
cheap vodka straight out of the bottle.
INT.

BEDROOM, MICHAEL'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Dark, except for the clock's red digits showing 1:13 AM.
Sleeping -- or trying, anyway -- alone in a king-sized bed,
Michael restlessly turns over.
He reaches for his phone on the nightstand, makes a call.
MICHAEL
Did I wake you?
(listens)
Why don't you come over. I could use
some company... yeah, bring some of
that too.
He glances at the clock. Next to it, barely visible is a
framed photo of his teenage daughter, LISA.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING, MISSION STREET - MORNING
An older part of town in the shadows of new highrises under
construction. As Michael walks down the steps of his building,
he hears the CLATTER of claws on concrete.
Out of the corner of his eye, Michael glimpses a DARK SHADOW
scurrying behind a pile of trash bags next to an overflowing
dumpster by the intersection.
He heads in that direction. Just as he reaches the corner -A BROWN PIT BULL
lunges at him, GROWLING and frothing at the mouth.
Jesus!

MICHAEL

The DOG OWNER, a young Hispanic man, yanks hard on the leash,
pulls the snarling animal back.

14.
DOG OWNER
Bullie, stop it! Sorry, man. He's a
little over protective...
(pats dog)
Got him cuz fuckin' junkies keep
breaking into our building to steal
shit. Bullie watches my wife and
kids when I ain't home.
MICHAEL
You're lucky I didn't shoot him. I
don't like dogs.
The pit bull GROWLS at him, bares its sharp teeth.
DOG OWNER
Guess they don't like you either.
(tugs on leash)
Come on, boy.
As the man and his dog cross the street, Michael reaches for
his cigarettes out of habit. Pulls out the nicotine gum
instead, curses under his breath: Shit.
INT. INTERROGATION ROOM, POLICE STATION - DAY
Internal Affairs investigators VALDES and PETERSON, both
straight-laced guys in their 30s, sit across from Michael.
PETERSON
Sure you don't want legal counsel or
a union rep?
MICHAEL
I stand by everything in my report.
VALDES
Then we'll take it from the top.
Again.
PETERSON
There's discrepancies in your account
of Detective Hernandez's death, and
the suspect's confession.
VALDES
Want coffee? This could take awhile.
MICHAEL
I'm good. Fire away.
He seems wired, a tad too confident. Possibly high.

15.
INT. BLUES BAR, HAIGHT-ASHBURY - NIGHT
Exhausted from the grilling, Michael sets down an empty mug,
hunches over a grimy booth table. DET. DENNIS ROSS (40S),
big and brusque, fills up the seat across from him.
ROSS
Think they bought it?
MICHAEL
Who the fuck knows. We gave them
what they wanted. A guilty verdict.
ROSS
Bam. Another one bites the dust.
Ross pours himself another beer from a half-empty pitcher.
Michael covers his glass, shakes off a refill.
MICHAEL
I'm beat. Didn't get much sleep last
night.
ROSS
You worried about, you know... the
fortune teller thing?
MICHAEL
Come on, Denny! Seriously, you think
there might be a werewolf -- no, a
Japanese werewolf stalking me? You
been watching too many horror movies.
ROSS
Don't laugh. I saw an old Japanese
movie once, where this ghost woman
with long black hair and no face,
floated across the room. Spooked the
shit out of me, man!
MICHAEL
Why is it big dudes like you always
turn out to be little scaredy-cats?
He laughs, slaps Ross on the back as he leaves.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING, MISSION STREET - NIGHT
WISPS OF FOG hang in the air like an apparition. Michael
fumbles with his keys. Hears the hollow CLANK of cans falling
out of a ripped-open garbage bag beside the overflowing
dumpster.

THE BACK PAGES

by
Lori Stansal

FADE IN:
INT. PRIVATE HOSPITAL ROOM - NIGHT
Cheery pictures, drawn by young hands, add little warmth to
the cold sterility of the room.
A drawing of a smiling angel has the place of honor above the
bed. The angels name is printed in loopy, childish scrawl:
MOMMY
She watches over BRIAN VAUGHN, 31. A bald head and a chemo
port are the lingering scars of his losing battle with
cancer.
His son ALEX, 8, sits on the couch under the window, deeply
engrossed in a book. He is physically small for a boy being
forced to grow up so fast.
Brians nurse, MOIRA, 30, enters. Serene and soothing, she
may as well have just stepped out of a Renoir painting.
MOIRA
And how are my two favorite
gentlemen doing tonight?
As she takes Brians blood pressure, she watches Alex flip to
random pages in his book, seemingly reading them out of
order.
MOIRA (CONTD)
(to Alex)
What are you doing?
BRIAN
Its one of those Choose Your Own
Adventure books. Puts you right in
the middle of the story.
ALEX
I have to decide if I want to go
deeper into the jungle or swim back
to my boat.
MOIRA
I see. What are you going to do?
Before he can answer, Brian is seized by a violent coughing
fit.
As Moira helps Brian sit up, Alex grabs a small cup of water
from the bedside tray, standing on tiptoes so the straw
reaches Brians lips.

2.

As the fit subsides, Brian sips the water gratefully.

BRIAN
Thanks, buddy.
MOIRA
How about you finish your story
while I take a look at your dad?
Alex settles back with his book, pondering his options.
BRIAN
And no cheating. Once you choose,
you have to follow it through to
the end, even if you dont like it.
Brians eyes linger on his son as Moira makes notes in his
chart.
MOIRA
How are you feeling tonight?
BRIAN
Honestly? Terrible.
MOIRA
Im sorry.
BRIAN
Dont be. Its not your fault. Some
things are just beyond our control.
Yawning deeply, he closes his eyes, missing the pained
expression on her face.
ALEX
Are you tired, Daddy?
Eyes still closed, Brian nods.
ALEX (CONTD)
Want me to read you a story?
A sad smile tugs at Brians mouth.
BRIAN
Id love it.
Moira joins Alex as he pulls several books from his backpack
and appraises them with eight-year-old solemnity.
MOIRA
How about we find something with a
happy ending?

3.

After careful consideration, Alex pulls JACK AND THE

BEANSTALK from the pile and holds it up for her approval.
MOIRA (CONTD)
Good choice.
Taking one long, final look at the pair, Moira slips out,
shutting the door softly behind her.
Alex pushes a chair closer to the bedside and steps on it,
climbing in bed beside his father.
Alex begins to read with the stilted cadence of a young
reader.
ALEX
Once upon a time, there was a poor
woman and her son Jack...
He continues to read MOS. Peeking out from heavy lids, Brian
observes the simultaneously heart-warming and heart-breaking
sight of his little boy reading him a bedtime story.
His eyes drift shut again.
INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS
Through the window, Moira cant tear her eyes away from the
tragic scene inside the hospital room.
Another NURSE joins her.
NURSE
Its so sad, isnt it? Whats going
to happen to that little boy?
Moira doesnt reply; she just continues to watch Alex read to
his father, lost in the world of her own thoughts.
INT. CAR (MOVING) - DAY
Alex, now 34, stares morosely out the windshield at the rain
that beats steadily down. The small boy is now a tall man
whose attitude and attire are as grey and grim as the storm
clouds in the sky.
Alexs partner HENRY TALBOT, 40, sits beside him in the
passenger seat. He has the smooth style of a snake oil
salesman, with the charm and sincerity to match.
Henry is engrossed in the obituaries section of the
newspaper.

4.

HENRY
This guy lived to be a hundred and
two.
ALEX
I dont think Id want to live that
long.
HENRY
Dont worry. You probably wont.
ALEX
Thanks for that.
HENRY
These things would be a lot more
interesting if they told you how
the person died.
ALEX
What are you reading the obits for
anyway?
HENRY
Beats the hell out of the
alternative.
ALEX
Which is?
HENRY
Talking to you.
INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE - DAY
Broken bottles litter the floor and graffiti mars the walls.
Raindrops cling to fractured window panes before falling to
the gritty floor with a faint PLOP.
In the center of the room, a YOUNG MAN lies in a pool of
blood, a neat bullet hole in the middle of his forehead.
POLICE OFFICERS mill about, documenting the crime scene.
ALEX
We got an ID?
POLICE OFFICER
Jeremy Novak. Eighteen. Been picked
up three times in the last six
months on drugs and weapons
charges.

5.

ALEX
Christ. Hes just a kid.
HENRY
He one of Delaneys boys?
POLICE OFFICER
Sure is.
ALEX
Any witnesses?
HENRY
In this neighborhood? You could do
a line of coke off a dead hooker
and nobody would notice.
The police officer excuses himself to go speak with a fellow
officer.
Henry and Alex stroll further out of earshot.
HENRY (CONTD)
Single gunshot wound to the head.
Sends a message.
ALEX
From who?
HENRY
Who do you think?
ALEX
Carrillo.
Henry nods.
ALEX (CONTD)
This beef between he and Delaney is
getting out of control. Should we
get a couple of uniforms to bring
him in?
HENRY
Nah, well go. He knows us. Might
make him more cooperative.
ALEX
And if it doesnt?
HENRY
Then we jump off that bridge when
we get to it.

6.

INT. ELEVATOR - DAY

Henry preens into the mirrored wall.
HENRY
Im damn good looking.
ALEX
Shame you have such a shitty
personality.
HENRY
At least I have a personality.
Youre about as interesting as
toast.
Alexs phone chimes. The text reads: YOU COMING BY LATER?
Alex smiles as he replies: SORRY. BIG CASE.
HENRY (CONTD)
The girlfriend?
ALEX
For approximately the eight
hundredth time, Jenn is just a
friend. Is having a woman in your
life who you dont sleep with
really that foreign of a concept to
you?
HENRY
Honestly? Yes.
The numbers above the door continue to climb as the elevator
approaches the summit.
ALEX
I wish we could nail Carrillo once
and for all.
HENRY
Hes a slippery bastard. But were
close.
With a faint DING, the doors slide open.
ALEX
Close isnt good enough anymore.

7.

INT. CARRILLOS OFFICE - DAY

A mammoth office with a spectacular view of the city. The
decor is sleek, modern, expensive.
Behind the too-big desk languishes a too-big man. LOU
CARRILLO, 50, has impeccable taste and questionable morals.
LOU
Detectives. Always a pleasure.
Please, have a seat.
They ignore the invitation, opting to remain standing in an
effort to assert what little authority they possess.
ALEX
You know why were here?
LOU
In my line of work, nothing stays
secret for long. Youre here about
that boy.
HENRY
If youre trying to wage a full out
war with Delaney, Id say youre
off to a good start.
LOU
When we last spoke, you told me
youd have Delaney off the streets
in six months. That was six months
ago.
HENRY
Its not that simple -ALEX
(overlapping)
Were working on it -LOU
Im not in the business of sitting
idly by.
Lou waddles to the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the city
far below.
LOU (CONTD)
Men like Delaney breed junkies and
whores and disease. Im trying to
keep the problem from spreading.

8.

HENRY
What youre trying to do is
eliminate your competition.
LOU
Hes preys on the sick and the
weak. I dont find that
particularly admirable.
ALEX
Its not your place to deal with
it.
LOU
Im trying to help you. We all know
how fucked up the system is. Thats
why Delaneys boys keep ending up
back on the streets.
ALEX
We dont need your help.
Lou smiles mildly, as if Alex is being deliberately obtuse.
Unlocking a drawer, he withdraws two bulging manila envelopes
and slides them across the desk in front of the detectives.
LOU
But you do need my help. And I need
yours.
A glance inside reveals wads of cash. Alex recoils as if he
found a venomous snake instead.
LOU (CONTD)
You ensure that Im able to handle
things as I see fit, without
interference from the cops. In
return, I take care of Delaney. We
all get what we want.
ALEX
Youre out of your damn mind. Put
this back and well pretend it
never-Henry cuts Alex off when he shoves the envelope inside his
jacket.
HENRY
(to Lou)
Youve got yourself a deal.

9.

Alex gapes at his partner. Henry fixes him with a cold,

warning stare. Unsure of what else to do, Alex obediently,
albeit reluctantly, pockets his envelope.
LOU
I know you wont disappoint me.
Its a thinly-veiled warning, not a compliment.
LOU (CONTD)
The system is in balance,
Detectives. Be sure not to tip the
scales in the wrong goddamn
direction.
EXT. CITY ROAD - DAY
The rush hour traffic is a tangled snarl. Taillights crawl
forward like ants, moving, but never getting anywhere.
Rain keeps time like a metronome, tapping out a steady,
maddening beat.
INT. CAR (MOVING) - CONTINUOUS
The tension of the traffic jam is no match for the tension
inside the car.
Alex stares stonily out the rain-spattered windshield as
Henry drums his fingers irritably on the steering wheel.
ALEX
What the hell was that?
HENRY
You said you wanted to take
Carrillo down. To do that, we
needed leverage.
ALEX
You thought taking this was the
best way to get it?
He flings his envelope onto the dashboard in disgust.
HENRY
This is our in. He trusts us now,
which gives us access to the
information we need to eventually
cripple him.

10.

ALEX
How do we know he doesnt see this
as you scratch my back, Ill stab
yours? He can turn on us any time
he wants.
HENRY
But he wont. Its mutually assured
destruction. Sure he can burn us,
but only at the risk of burning
himself even worse.
ALEX
You think this will hold him
accountable?
HENRY
He doesnt realize it yet, but hes
given us the upper hand.
ALEX
I dont like it.
Henrys jaw and grip on the wheel tighten.
HENRY
Good thing Im not asking your
opinion then.
ALEX
Its blood money.
HENRY
God, what is your problem? I
thought I was doing us a favor.
ALEX
Forgive me if I dont particularly
like selling my soul to the highest
bidder.
The car lurches to an abrupt halt as Henry slams on the
brakes to avoid an overly zealous driver, the envelope
ricocheting into Alexs lap.
HENRY
Watch it, asshole!
Alex stares through the veil of raindrops at the endless line
of cars ahead of them.
ALEX
We should have gone the other way.

11.

HENRY
Not much we can do about it now, is
there?
ALEX
No.
His fingers curl around the edges of the envelope.
ALEX (CONTD)
Theres not.
EXT. BOOKSTORE - NIGHT
The name of the store, THE BACK PAGES, is printed in funky
letters on the window. The door, trim, and awning are a
dizzying rainbow of colors.
A CLOSED sign hangs in the door.
INT. BOOKSTORE - NIGHT
If Dr. Seuss designed a bookstore, it would look like this.
Every shelf a different hue, wildly mismatched patterned
chairs scattered haphazardly, and the craziest collection of
knickknacks this side of a flea market.
As Alex enters, a small bell above the door JINGLES.
FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)
Were closed.
Frowning as he locks the door behind him, Alex responds in
the direction of the voice.
ALEX
No, youre not.
JENNIFER MAILER, 33, pops out from around the corner. As
joyful and vibrant as her store, she is the Tigger to Alexs
Eeyore.
JENNIFER
Hey. I thought you werent coming.
ALEX
How many times have I told you to
lock that door before you start
cleaning up? Anyone can walk in
here.

12.

JENNIFER
Is used bookstore related crime on
the rise?
ALEX
I just worry about you.
Bedraggled and sad-faced, he looks like a puppy who has just
been dropped off at the pound.
JENNIFER
Should I be worried about you?
ALEX
Im fine.
JENNIFER
Thats what people say when theyre
not fine.
ALEX
Just one of those days, I guess.
Slumped against the counter, he is out of place with his
gloomy clothes and attitude.
Suddenly, she SMACKS her palms on the counter a little too
enthusiastically, causing to Alex jump.
JENNIFER
I have something for you. Wait
here.
Before he can object, she disappears into the back.
Alexs fingers brush his badge. Taking it off his belt, he
rolls it between his fingers, tracing the words TO SERVE AND
PROTECT over and over again.
He hastily replaces it as Jenn reappears with a large
cardboard box in her arms that she sets on the counter with a
spirited and none-too-careful THUNK.
ALEX
Whats that?
JENNIFER
Books.
ALEX
In a bookstore? How unexpected.

13.

JENNIFER
Shut up. This was dropped off this
morning. I was going to surprise
you for your birthday, but I think
you need them now.
Curiosity piqued, he peers inside the box.
ALEX
Are you serious?
Withdrawing various classic childrens books from the box,
the first truly genuine smile crosses his face.
JENNIFER
Youve been telling more forever
that you wish you had kept more of
the books from when you were a kid.
ALEX
You sure? You could sell these,
make some money.
JENNIFER
Id rather see you smile.
ALEX
I dont know what to say.
JENNIFER
I hear thank you is always in
style.
ALEX
Thank you. Really. You dont know
how much this means to me.
JENNIFER
You know Id do anything for you.
ALEX
Thats good because I was going to
ask you to do one more thing.
JENNIFER
Name it.
ALEX
Start locking your damn door.

14.

INT. ALEXS HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The room is remarkably unremarkable. Neutral and sparse, it
is devoid of any personal touches.
Alex is settled deep in the couch, a half-empty glass of wine
on the coffee table. Books litter the hardwood floor like
land mines.
He withdraws the final book from the box. Made of soft, aged
leather, the edges are worn and bear the scars of time.
There is no title, no authors name, no identifying features
of any kind. Just a plain, ordinary book.
He begins to read, his eyes moving across the words. What he
reads causes him to drop the book like a its a hot coal.
The wine glass overturns, a Rorschach test of splintered
glass and wasted merlot.
Forcing a couple of deep breaths, he opens the book once
again.
INSERT - THE FIRST SENTENCE, which reads:
This is the story of Alex Vaughns
life.
BACK TO SCENE
He continues to skim through the book, his fingers
unconsciously tapping out a nervous rhythm on his leg.
Grabbing his phone, he tears his eyes from the pages only
long enough to dial.
ALEX
Jenn? Its Alex. You need to come
take a look at this...
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
The book rests between two fresh glasses of wine on the
coffee table.
JENNIFER
You read it?
ALEX
Started to.

15.

JENNIFER
And it doesnt freak you out?
ALEX
Its gotta be someone screwing with
me or something.
JENNIFER
Hell of an elaborate prank. I mean,
whats the payoff?
ALEX
I dont know. Maybe someone is just
trying to rattle my cage. Did you
get a name from the person who
dropped it off?
JENNIFER
It was sitting outside the store
when I went to open up. I have no
idea who left it.
ALEX
Then it could just be a
coincidence. They might not have
even known about the book.
JENNIFER
Or maybe theres something in it
that they wanted you to see.
INT. LIVING ROOM - LATER
The wine has been replaced by soda cans and a pizza box. Jenn
is stretched out on the floor, combing through the other
books.
On the couch, Alexs attempts to juggle both the book and his
pizza fail as the book slips from his hand. He picks it back
up, flipping quickly to try and find his place.
ALEX
Weird. A bunch of the pages are
blank. Like, the last third of the
book has nothing in it.
He flips to the last few pages of text before the pages go
blank. His eyes widen.
ALEX (CONTD)
You are not going to believe this.
This is stuff that happened today.

THE LAST ROUND

written by
Kosta K

FADE IN:
INT. FRANK'S APARTMENT - DAY
Sunlight streams through holes in the makeshift curtains. It
stretches across a disaster zone of discarded clothing, empty
beer bottles and various drug paraphernalia.
BEDROOM
A NAKED WOMAN sleeps, face down on the bed. This is CATHERINE
COLE, late 20's, athletic, lean, blonde hair draped over a
face we'll see later.
Next to her sits FRANK FINCH, early 50's, about twenty pounds
overweight, but still in pretty good shape. He takes sips of
his breakfast beer and stares at a muted television.
ON TV
Images of a censored crime scene pop up during a newscast.
The title below the anchorwoman reads "IS HE BACK OR COPYCAT?"
Frank's face tenses into a frown. He fights back a cough.
BATHROOM
Blood and mucus spatter the sink. Water crashes down on it.
The drain swallows it all.
Frank splashes his tired face. He locks into a staring contest
with his reflection.
BEDROOM
A FRAME hangs on the wall, a little crooked - a younger,
wide-eyed Frank, smiles into the camera, holding up his boxing
gloves in a fighting stance.
Frank tucks his shirt into his pants. He makes himself more
presentable.
EXT. FRANK'S APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY
Frank winces as he steps out into the bright morning. He
throws on a pair of sunglasses.
TOMMY CUNTS, early 30's, leans against the railing, looking
at his phone. His yellow track-suit shows everyone he means
business.
He notices Frank.

2.
TOMMY
(whistles)
You look like shit, bro.
Frank pats down his jacket as he approaches.
FRANK
That's pretty accurate.
Frank hands him a small stack of bills. Tommy reaches into
his pants and produces a pill bottle. They make the exchange.
Tommy counts his money. Frank examines his new friends.
FRANK
How much is in here?
TOMMY
One with breakfast, another with
dinner. Should keep you going for a
while.
Frank pockets the bottle and throws him a nod.
TOMMY
Hey, my boy told me that that is
some serious shit rattling around in
that bottle there.
FRANK
Is that concern I hear? Tommy, I'm
touched.
Frank walks away.
TOMMY
I consider you a friend, bro! Believe
it or not, I don't have that many!
FRANK
I believe it.
INT. FRANK'S CAR - DAY
Frank is in the middle of a violent hacking cough. Veins
bulge out of all his features. His eyes: red and wide. He
gags and chokes, then... silence.
He takes huge breaths and tries to compose himself.
He looks out his window at the PICTURESQUE, SUBURBAN
NEIGHBORHOOD.
Frank pops open the pill bottle. He throws one back dry.

3.
EXT. CUTE LITTLE HOUSE IN THE SUBURBS - DAY
Frank buttons his jacket and pats down his hair as he crosses
the street. He gets to the front door.
He looks around before knocking.
DENISE LENNON, mid 40's, in her robe, opens the door. The
white fabric makes her glow in the sunlight. She's drop-dead
gorgeous, an effortless beauty. At the sight of Frank, though,
she quickly turns into a barracuda.
DENISE
What the fuck are you doing here,
Frank?
You alone?

FRANK

DENISE
Not for long. I saw your car the
second you pulled up. This is a lot
closer than three hundred feet.
FRANK
I only need two minutes. You won't
see me again, I promise.
She studies his face. There's a pathetic desperation in his
eyes.
Two minutes.

DENISE

FRANK
God, you're beautiful. This is gonna
be hard.
He has trouble starting...
FRANK
What happened between us... all the
shit, the fighting, the divorce... I
just want you to know that I put all
the blame, all of it... right on you -What?

DENISE

FRANK
Right on your fucking head. You are
the meanest, cruelest living thing
on this planet... and I've sat down
with serial killers and rapists.

4.
DENISE
I don't need this shit.
She tries to close the door but he holds it open.
FRANK
If you burst into flames right now
and blew away into a cloud of ashes,
the world would be a much better
place, believe it.
A police cruiser pulls up.
FRANK
You are, by far, the worst thing I
have ever stuck my cock into.
She slaps him hard.
Fuck you.

DENISE

She slams the door in his face. He turns to see a cop heading
towards him.
Hey, Ronny.

FRANK

OFFICER RONNY FRANZEN, late 30's, clean-cut and all-American,

struts across the lawn.
RONNY
Frank, you know you're not supposed
to be here, right?
FRANK
You're not answering your phone?
It's that time again. Come on.
Ronny throws his head back.
Aw shit.

RONNY

FRANK
You're driving. My breakfast is
kicking in pretty fierce. Be right
back.
INT. FRANK'S CAR
Frank jumps in and reaches for the glove box. It opens and
reveals a holstered revolver and a shiny brass police badge.
He grabs them.

5.
INT. RONNY'S POLICE CRUISER - DAY - TRAVELING
They ride in silence. The suburbs are gone, replaced by a
decaying urban landscape.
Frank leans back against the headrest, exhausted.
FRANK
Any pick-ups today?
Yeah. One.

RONNY

FRANK
You have it on you?
Ronny looks him over. He knows what's coming.
RONNY
I can't show up short again.
FRANK
Pull over here.
Ronny looks out at their destination, annoyed. They stop.
Frank surveys the neighborhood. He holds out his hand. Ronny
doesn't move. Frank snaps his fingers.
Come on.

FRANK

Ronny reluctantly reaches under his seat and produces a fat

envelope. Frank grabs it.
He fingers the cash inside, pulls out a few bills and hands
the rest back.
EXT. PETE'S PAWN SHOP - DAY
Frank steps out of the cruiser. The neighborhood is
practically crumbling around him. He throws uncomfortable
glances at the disheveled citizens scattered about.
FRANK
(to Ronny)
Keep it running.
INT. PETE'S PAWN SHOP
A bell above the door signals Frank's entrance into the dark
and grimy hoarder's paradise. He makes his way to the counter.

6.
PETE BELL, late 50's, short and stocky, yesterday's sweat
stains under his armpits, sits, nose buried in a newspaper.
PETE
Frank... to what do I owe this
pleasure? I believe my account was
already settled this month, yes?
FRANK
Relax, I'm here as a customer, Pete.
Pete puts the paper away.
Really.

PETE

FRANK
I need something with a kick.
PETE
Special occasion?
FRANK
I wouldn't say special.
PETE
You want it wrapped?
Why not?

FRANK

INT. RONNY'S CRUISER

Ronny exchanges dirty looks with some scumbags across the
street.
Frank returns and drops into the passenger seat.
He holds a present in his lap the size of a shoebox.
Ronny's eyes dart from him to the box.
You ready?

FRANK

Ronny puts it in drive.

INT. HOSPITAL WASHROOM - DAY
Frank leans up against the door, arms crossed.
Today, yeah?

FRANK

7.
Ronny stands at the toilet, pants pulled down a bit, staring
at his business.
RONNY
I can't keep doing this, Frank. I
don't like it.
FRANK
It's a world of people doing things
they don't like, Ronny. Don't beat
yourself up.
Ronny turns around. He pulls up his pants with one hand and
hands Frank a plastic cup filled with piss with the other.
He storms out.
Frank covers the cup and puts it into its designated plastic
bag.
INT. NURSE'S DESK
Frank hands THE NURSE the piss with a smile. She throws him
a dirty look over her glasses. He splits.
INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - DAY
Cubicles clutter the floor. Uniformed cops mix in with plainclothes detectives. The place buzzes with activity.
FRANK'S DESK
Frank sets the present down. He drapes his jacket on the
back of his chair and takes a seat.
AN OLD PHOTOGRAPH is thumb-tacked to his cubicle wall - A
CUTE LITTLE GIRL, 8, flashing a giant smile.
JENNY GUMBLE, early 30's, interrupts. Her uniform struggles
to hold in her rolls.
JENNY
Captain wants to see you. Sounds
serious.
INT. CAPTAIN WHITE'S OFFICE
CAPTAIN BILL WHITE, late 50's, tall, skinny and black, sits
behind a large desk. Bill has the face of someone who has
seen all of the world's shit first hand, and taken a swim in
it more than once.

8.
He stares at Frank who sits across from him. A thick file
folder rests on the desk. An uncomfortable moment of
silence...
BILL
How's it going, Frank?
FRANK
Amazing, you?
Bill studies his face.
BILL
You go to your appointment this
morning?
Yup.

FRANK

BILL
Are they gonna find anything in there
besides aspirin?
FRANK
They might not even find aspirin.
Frank smiles.
BILL
I know there's a good cop floating
around in there somewhere... and he
must be mad as hell that all he's
doing now is wasting his time on
gang-bangers and dead-end drug
dealers.
Bill slides the folder over to Frank.
Frank opens it... Uncensored photographs of the bloody crime
scene from the news - a naked woman, bound to a chair, her
face covered in blood, a bicycle chain wrapped tight around
her throat, her eyes wide open, staring into oblivion.
BILL (O.S.)
He's back Frank.
Frank is lost in the images.
BILL
I don't know where he's been for the
past five years, but this is
definitely our man, right?
FRANK
Could be a fan.

9.
BILL
Or it could be him.
Frank shuts the file.
FRANK
I don't want any part at that shit.
BILL
Believe me, I don't want you anywhere
near this case, either.
FRANK
So, why did you call me in here?
BILL
Because someone else actually asked
to take it and personally requested
that you come on to assist.
Who?
Vasquez.

FRANK
BILL

FRANK
Let her down easy, okay?
BILL
It's not my call. She put in an
actual request, paperwork and
everything.
FRANK
She's fucking crazy then.
BILL
That's what I told her, but she
insisted.
FRANK
I don't work with partners,
BILL
Partner? Vasquez is the lead on
this one. You'll be more of a...
sidekick.
Frank slides the folder back to Bill.
Fuck that.

FRANK

10.
BILL
I'm not asking.
Frank sits back, disgusted.
BILL
Take a look. Put in your two cents.
Maybe do some real detective work
for a change. I'm sure it won't
take long before she sees the error
of her ways.
INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT WASHROOM - LATER
Frank, crammed into a stall, coughs up his insides. Eyes
popping. Veins bulging. He gags one last time and spits in
the bowl. Red clouds dance in the water before he flushes.
He gets out and heads to the sink. He stares down his
reflection in the mirror with a look of anger and disgust as
he washes his hands.
INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - FRANK'S DESK
Frank gets to his desk.
He reaches over and pulls the picture off his wall. He grabs
the present and his jacket. He spots Jenny nearby.
FRANK
Where's Vasquez?
INT. GOLDEN'S BOXING GYM - DAY
A dark and dusty portrait of the past complete with ancient
equipment, creaking floors and a worn-out American flag on
the far wall. In the center is a stained boxing ring.
GRUNTS and THUMPS come from one of the dark corners.
Sunlight beams down through a boarded up window and onto
MARIA VASQUEZ, early 30's, dark hair sticks to her sweaty
forehead, muscles flex and explode with every vicious blow
to a heavy-bag twice her size. The bag swings violently as
if trying to escape.
Frank walks in and spots her.
Vasquez is focused on the bag as he approaches.
Frank stands by, not wanting to interrupt.

11.
She gives the poor bag a few more swings and ends with a
whopper that almost sends it off its bracket.
FRANK
You should straighten your wrists
more. They'll thank you for it.
She turns to Frank. She takes in huge lungfuls of air and
sizes him up.
FRANK
This is gonna be fun. I can tell.
EXT. GOLDEN'S GYM

LATER

Frank leans against a parked sports car. The wrapped gift

rests on the hood.
Sketchy characters pace around nearby. Frank's presence is
making them nervous.
He pulls out the pill bottle and tosses one in his mouth.
Vasquez shows up with a duffel bag in hand. She looks a lot
different dry.
VASQUEZ
Is this your car?
FRANK
Does it look like my car?
VASQUEZ
Well, I don't have a car, either, so
I guess we're walking.
FRANK
Great. This is a perfect neighborhood
for walking.
EXT. BUSY GHETTO NEIGHBORHOOD

DAY

Vasquez and Frank stroll down the street. Frank sticks out
like a sore middle finger amongst the multi-cultural
pedestrians.
FRANK
Golden's is for dinosaurs.
you more of a yoga girl.

I figured

VASQUEZ
I practically grew up in that place.

12.
FRANK
You don't grow up in a boxing ring,
you grow down.
VASQUEZ
What is that supposed to mean?
FRANK
That bag ever hit you back?
She stops him.
VASQUEZ
They told me you were a hard-on.
That you were borderline insane. If
we're gonna be partners, you need to
know: I don't respond well to
bullshit.
FRANK
Good to know.
They get back to walking.
VASQUEZ
There were eight victims in all.
Young girls, booze, drugs, tied to
chairs with bicycle chain necklaces
and then nothing... for five years.
What do you think happened?
FRANK
I don't know. This might not even
be the same guy, so don't get too
excited.
Frank heads to the street. He hails a cab.
VASQUEZ
What are you doing?
FRANK
We're gonna go get my car. We're
gonna get killed out here. Oh, and...
We're not partners.
INT. TAXI CAB - LATER - TRAVELING
They ride in silence.
The cab driver throws glances at them through the rearview
mirror.

13.
FRANK
Why did you really take the case?
VASQUEZ
I'm a cop. It's my job.
FRANK
You saw what's in those files and
you still took it? Cause you're a
cop?
VASQUEZ
I don't like bad guys.
Frank retreats and studies her.
FRANK
What else did they tell you about
me?
VASQUEZ
Not much. They just gave me all the
files from the last case and their
blessing. A little homework filled
in the rest.
FRANK
Homework, huh?
VASQUEZ
That's right.
FRANK
Don't believe everything you read.
Oh, no?

VASQUEZ

She gets comfortable.

VASQUEZ
You could've gone pro, had a mean
right hook, pretty good record, but
too many hits to the head left you
with a dependency on pain-killers
that lead to a suspension and time
in rehab.
Frank's face drains of all emotion.
Vasquez enjoys it.

14.
VASQUEZ
You got out just in time to jump on
the bicycle chain case but your new
prescriptions were getting in the
way. You needed to stay focused,
alert, on the ball and they were
turning you into a zombie. So, you
started doing blow just to keep up.
But you couldn't keep up. You ran
out of time.
She turns to the window.
VASQUEZ
He disappeared... And you went back
into the system - another suspension,
more rehab and further down the spiral
until...
She turns to him.
VASQUEZ
I shouldn't believe all that, though,
right?
Frank is a statue.
We're here.

FRANK

EXT. FRANK'S CAR - DAY

The cab speeds away.
Frank and Vasquez approach the vehicle. They react
simultaneously to the site of it.
Shit.

FRANK

"ASSHOLE", scratched across the entire driver's side in deep

and jagged strokes.
VASQUEZ
Ex-girlfriend or ex-wife?
Get in.

FRANK

They get in and take off.

15.
INT. FRANK'S CAR - DAY - TRAVELING
Frank drives. Vasquez stares out the window. Total silence.
INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY
A barely standing pile of steel and concrete. Boarded-up
windows let in shafts of light that seem to help hold the
place up.
Uniformed cops linger in the nearby shadows.
Light comes through the crumbling ceiling and onto the crime
scene - It's set up like a bedroom.
A bouquet of fresh flowers wallows in a dirty mason jar on a
rickety old dresser next to a simple twin bed.
A piece of drywall, covered in faded wallpaper, stands as a
background. An empty picture frame hangs on it.
Taking center stage is a metal chair. Blood cakes its surface.
Frank takes in the scene from the shadows a few feet away.
VASQUEZ (O.S.)
Welcome back.
She emerges from behind him and approaches the scene. She
squeezes her hands into a pair of rubber gloves.
CRIME SCENE - CLOSER
Frank stands in the middle of the set. His eyes fixed on the
empty frame on the wall.
Vasquez goes over the rest of the scene.
Frank notices THREE ROUND MARKS ON THE DUSTY GROUND.
He crouches down and gets a better perspective. He looks
over at the bloody chair.
FRANK
You got a flashlight?
Vasquez obliges.
Frank holds the flashlight over the three marks and points
it towards the scene. The light hits it dead-on.
He taped it.

FRANK

BLOOD OF THE BUTCHER

by

Paul Clarke

CLOSE-UP -- A glass test-tube fills with BLOOD.

INT. HOSPITAL WARD - DAY
ALICE HEATAN (28) lies unconscious on the bed.
-- Shes petite and pale. A deep cut above her eye held
closed with white tape. The blood is drawn from her arm.
DOCTOR (O.S.)
Well be running all possible
tests... Especially given her preexisting condition.
MICHAELS (O.S.)
Condition?
DOCTOR (O.S.)
(awkward)
She didnt tell you...?
GUNSHOT (prelap)
INT. SHOOTING RANGE - DAY
Alice - alive and well with no cut on her forehead - looks
like an accountant with glasses, blouse, hair in a bun.
-- Except she wears earmuffs and safety goggles. An ungainly
grip on her 9mm PISTOL.
SUPER - EARLIER THAT DAY
She takes aim. FIRES.
-- Only just clips the target.
Frustrated, she reads something in front of her. Adjusts her
technique. Takes aim again. FIRES.
-- Not much better.
Again, she studies something in front of her...
Its a TABLET. Instructions loaded on correct shooting
technique. Shes learning to shoot by reading the manual.
She adjusts her posture. Raises her chin. FIRES...
A little better, but nowhere near the center. She shrugs.

2.

INT. FBI OFFICE - DAY

A hive of activity. AGENTS rush about in a frenzy.
Alice wanders in, target sheet in hand, gun case under her
arm. She notices the frantic bustle. Hurries towards glass
doors embossed with the FBI LOGO - FRAUD DIVISION
INT. FBI FRAUD DIVISION - SUPERVISORS OFFICE - DAY
The doors open a crack - Alice peers in.
Inside is her supervisor, AGENT MICHAELS (52) rugged, exmilitary - The voice we heard at the hospital - In the middle
of a heated argument with...
DIRECTOR CARTER (61), distinguished, in horn-rimmed glasses.
MICHAELS
I understand that sir, but you
cant honestly expect me to put
aside billion dollar fraud cases to
go traipsing round after one man.
DIRECTOR CARTER
You read the papers? Theyre having
a field day. People are living in
fear and were the laughing stock.
Five bodies and another missing. We
need the situation contained.
Michaels paces, frustration clear for all to see.
DIRECTOR CARTER
The white collar criminals can
wait. We have a monster to catch.
Michaels nods. Nothing else he can say.
The Director checks his watch, exits. Somewhat surprised to
see Alice eavesdropping at the door.
Michaels spots her, his already bad mood nearly boils over.
Through gritted teeth -MICHAELS
Not now, Agent Heatan.
ALICE
Sir, I couldnt help but overhear.
If theyre looking for help with
the Butcher case, Id like to be
the first to put my hand up.

3.
MICHAELS
Really, you want to go hunting
serial killers?
ALICE
He must be stopped.
MICHAELS
There are plenty of evil men out
there committing fraud. Dont they
need to be stopped?
She remains defiant. He spots her shooting chart.
MICHAELS
Whats your aim like?
Her reluctance to show him says it all. He sighs.
MICHAELS
Look, youre not a field agent, you
work a desk. And youre one of the
best I have. I just dont know
whats happened to you lately.
Youre distracted... Consumed.
ALICE
Is it because Im a woman?
Michaels is incredulous.
MICHAELS
Agent Heatan, you have a stack of
work to do-ALICE
Ive done it.
MICHAELS
Then Ill arrange for a new stack.
Hes adamant. She opens her mouth one last time, thinks
better of it.
INT. FBI FRAUD OFFICE - DAY
Open plan, no cubicles. Desks manned by similar accountantlooking AGENTS.
Alice passes through. Her presence acknowledged by no one.
She seems used to this. Makes no attempt to greet them.

4.
Continues on to her desk. Its well organized. Covered with
gadgets, nothing personal.
She scowls at the target. Has an idea -- Grabs a pen. Checks
no ones watching. Tries to stick it through. The cardboards
too thick. She raises the pen and jabs it with all her might.
It pierces, but makes a loud NOISE.
-- Everyone stops what theyre doing and looks. She hides it.
Pretends to not notice. They return to their work.
She stabs it again. Inspects the two new HOLES. Much closer
to the centre, but they dont match the real bullet holes.
She shrugs, close enough.
She puts it away, wiggles her mouse. Brings up a screen full
of SPREADSHEETS. She sighs. Clicks away.
Her attention quickly wanes. Shes distracted by frantic
movement in the adjacent department.
She quietly slides out of her chair, slips out the exit.
INT. FBI HOMICIDE DIVISION - DAY
A large room, one wall covered in evidence - photos,
documents, maps. Nobodys there - except Alice.
Wide-eyed, she stares at the evidence.
She takes her tablet. Plugs it into one of the computers.
Starts downloading case files, photos, evidence.
HOMICIDE AGENT (O.S.)
Can I help you?
Alice spins to find a rugged moustached HOMICIDE AGENT with
an inquisitive look on his face.
ALICE
The director sent any spare agents
over to help out.
He eyes her up and down. Spots the computer plugged in.
HOMICIDE AGENT
You from I.T.?
ALICE
Fraud.
He contemplates. She doesnt look like a field agent.

5.
HOMICIDE AGENT
I guess we could use an extra set
of hands. Come on.
Somewhat stunned, Alice rips the tablet out.
ALICE
Should I bring my gun?
INT. FBI CAR - DAY
Alice climbs into an empty back seat. Two BURLY AGENTS climb
in on either side. Nearly crushing her in a beef sandwich. If
she was any larger they wouldnt fit.
The Homicide Agent and a BALD AGENT climb in the front.
The car takes off. Tires SQUEAL as they corner hard. The two
agents in the back nearly crushing Alice each time.
No one seems particularly happy about her presence.
HOMICIDE AGENT
(to Alice)
Its been a little over twenty-four
hours since the victim was taken.
Which means -ALICE
Hes about to dump the body.
The Homicide Agent eyes her up.
ALICE
Im familiar with the case.
HOMICIDE AGENT
Good, because if were right,
youre about to get up close and
personal.
BALD AGENT
Whats with all these greenhorns
helping us? We dont need em.
ALICE
Then how come you havent caught
him yet?
Death stares all round. Alice recedes further into the gap
between the bulky Agents.

6.
BALD AGENT
We nearly had the bastard.
Forensics were reassembling data
from that mangled phone we
recovered... Till the fucking
computer crashed.
(glares at Alice)
Didnt you say you worked in I.T.?
Everyones eyes on her. Shes feeling the heat.
ALICE
Fraud.
He grumbles. About to continue his rant when he spots the
flashing red lights of an ambulance up ahead.
BALD AGENT
Shit.
EXT. LOCAL PARK - DAY
AGENTS, POLICE, and PARAMEDICS rush about. Crime scene tape
is rolled around the playground.
Alice spots BLOOD on the wood railing around the sand-pit.
Her enthusiasm has slowed. She approaches the central hive of
activity with trepidation.
She swallows hard. Slow steps - in stark contrast to the buzz
of movement around her.
The swarm parts for a moment. She gets a clear look.
Heart in her throat -A BODY. In pieces. Barely identifiable as human. Chopped up,
and smashed to a pulp. Gruesome. Obscenely savage.
Shes frozen. Mouth agape...
Someone bumps into her. Snaps her from her daze.
She wobbles about. Stumbles from the scene. Clutches at her
temple. A shade of pale grey.
She takes one more wobbly step, trips, falls -Smashes her head on the merry-go-round.
CUT TO BLACK

7.
INT. UPMARKET CLUB - NIGHT
Dim lighting, pulsating MUSIC. Congregated by a classier
CROWD. Twenty-something year old BUSINESSMEN in suits woo
dolled up DAMES in skintight dresses.
Enter SMOOTH TONY THOMPSON (42) - thinks hes James Bond in
a tux. Even amongst this crowd hes overdressed, and half a
generation too old.
He mingles. Sips at his scotch.
Spots his prey. A BUXOM BLONDE (25) in a white strapless.
He approaches. Casually leans on the bar. Beams his game-show
host smile. She politely returns it.
TONY
Can I buy you a drink?
She eyes him up and down. Before she can answer -A TATTOOED HOOLIGAN slides in between them. Nice suit and
waist coat - visible neck tattoos.
TATTOOED HOOLIGAN
(cockney accent)
You lost, pal? Dressed up for a
wedding or something?
He laughs at his own joke. So does his friend, an imposing
SHAVED-HEAD HOOLIGAN, who takes place at his shoulder.
Tony eyes them with disdain.
TATTOOED HOOLIGAN
Shouldnt you be giving away the
bride about now? Gramps.
More exaggerated laughter.
TONY
I was just attempting to converse
with the lady.
The Hooligans mirth evaporates.
TATTOOED HOOLIGAN
Yeah, well she dont wanna converse
with you.
Tony grins. Refuses to back down.

8.
TONY
Id rather hear that from her lips.
The staunch Tattooed Hooligan gets in Tonys face.
TATTOOED HOOLIGAN
You wont be getting anywhere near
her lips.
He shoves Tony. His large friend flanks them. Cracks his
knuckles. Tony raises his hands in surrender.
TONY
Theres no need for violence.
TATTOOED HOOLIGAN
No, I think we need to make an
example of you.
Tony reaches into his coat. The Hooligans flinch. The Shaved
head one pulls a SWITCHBLADE.
The surrounding crowd are oblivious. Tony slowly removes a
MONEY CLIP - bulging with bills.
TONY
Theres plenty more ladies here
that might enjoy my conversation.
How about a deal. Two hundred and
you let me walk away with my image
intact?
Tattooed Hooligan spies the wad of cash.
TATTOOED HOOLIGAN
Five.
Tony grumbles. Rips off five bills - plenty left behind. He
hands them over.
Tattooed Hooligan smiles to his mate. Pockets the money.
Backs away with hands up. Talks overly-loud -TATTOOED HOOLIGAN
My bad. You have a nice night, sir.
He slips a wicked grin. Returns to the Blonde. Orders a
couple more drinks.
Tony slinks into the crowd. The Hooligans watch him go.
Exchange a sinister glance.

9.
INT. UPMARKET CLUB - BATHROOM
Muffled music plays in the background.
Tony empties his bladder at the urinal. He shakes, zips up.
Turns and nearly runs into Tattooed Hooligan, grinning
maniacally.
Tony tries to step round him. Tattooed Hooligan blocks his
path. Tony notices his Shaved-head friend blocking the door.
TONY
Gentlemen. You got your money.
TATTOOED HOOLIGAN
Looks like you got plenty more.
TONY
We had a deal.
TATTOOED HOOLIGAN
Deals change.
On cue, Shaved-head Hooligan flicks out the switchblade.
Tony stares the Hooligan in the eyes. Alarmingly calm. In
fact he actually looks pleased.
The Hooligan is shaken by this, he lunges for Tonys jacket.
-- Tony grabs his wrist. Backs them both into a stall. Shuts
the door. The Shaved-head Hooligan races to the door. Cant
push it open with the two bodies inside.
INSIDE THE STALL
Tony smashes the Hooligans head against the tiled wall. The
Hooligan fights back, but there isnt enough room to swing.
Tonys face is inches from him. He strikes small, sharp blows
repeatedly - efficiency of movement.
The blows take their toll. Tattooed Hooligan drops to his
knees.
-- A blade swipes past, inches from Tonys face.
He looks up to find the Shaved-head hooligan hanging over the
stall wall. It buckles under his immense weight.
Tony kicks out the support bar. The wall comes crashing down opening up the gap between the two stalls.

10.
The Shaved-head hooligan lands with a thud. The blade
embedded in his shoulder.
He tries to pull it free, but Tony stomps down on his
shoulder, driving the blade deeper.
Tattooed Hooligan SCREAMS as he tackles Tony into the wall.
Tony slides out of his jacket, dodges like a matador.
In one fluid motion he rips the Hooligans belt free, wraps
it round the his throat, yanks it tight.
Hooligan fights for all his worth, but Tony has total control
of the mans body. He kicks out one knee. Brings him down -Face to face with his bleeding buddy.
TONY
You dont change the deal.
Hooligans face is blue. A few seconds from dead. He nods
frantically... Tony drops him on the floor.
Tony heads to the sinks. The straightens out his jacket. This
side of the bathroom clean and serene.
The other is chaos. A broken toilet leaks water. Tattooed
Hooligan scrambles to his feet. His hair is crazy, his
clothes ripped, his nose bleeds. About to charge -- he
freezes.
Tony flicks his jacket over one shoulder. Props one buttcheek up on a sink. Revealing for the first time... A PISTOL
in a custom holster sewn into his waistcoat.
The Hooligan stares. This guy just fought off two men and
didnt even resort to his gun.
TONY
How about a new deal?
Shaved-head Hooligan struggles to his feet. Pulls the blade
free. Ready to attack. Tattooed Hooligan stops him. Motions
to the gun.
TONY
You two slip out the side exit, go
get your buddy some medical
attention. Leave me to my endeavours.
Hes cold, emotionless. Menacing.
The Hooligans nod. Ease their way to the exit. Careful not to
incur any more wrath.

11.
I/E. UPMARKET CLUB - NIGHT
Tony spots the Blonde heading out the door. Races after her.
Catches up as she arrives at a taxi.
TONY
Looks like your friends have
abandoned you. Maybe I could escort
you home?
He holds the door open for her. She climbs in, eyes him up
and down. Contemplates -- Slams the door shut in his face.
The taxi races off. Tony remains on the sidewalk.
He turns to find the huge BOUNCER stifling a chuckle at his
expense. Tony glares at him.
The Bouncers mirth evaporates. He and Tony exchange a deathstare, neither backing down an inch...
Until Tonys phone rings. He lingers a moment longer, checks
the caller ID. Concerned, he answers.
TONY
What?
EXT. POLICE STATION - DAY
Tony pulls up in a sleek, understated, late model AUDI.
I/E. TONYS AUDI - DAY
He eyes the police station with disdain. Talks on his phone.
TONY
What do I pay you for?
He hangs up. A moment later a high-priced LAWYER emerges.
Dashes across the street and climbs into the car.
Tony waits for an explanation. The lawyer looks flighty.
Reluctant to reveal bad news to this intimidating man.
LAWYER
They have you on twenty-two counts
of fraud and tax evasion.
(slight quiver in voice)
Im sorry, the Feds are involved
now. Theres nothing more I can do.

12.
Tony shakes his head in disgust.
TONY
After everything, this is how they
get me?
LAWYER
Its how they got Capone.
Tony gives him a nod. The lawyer cant exit quick enough.
As he watches the man scurry away he ponders. He has an idea.
Pulls out his phone. Dials.
TONY
Gregory, I seem to have got myself
in a jam. Does Bobby have an asset
in the FBI, preferably in fraud?
(beat)
Come on buddy, its me. I wont
tell anyone.
INT. HOSPITAL WARD - DAY
The opening scene - Alice lying in bed. Groggy, she awakens.
She clutches at her head. Notices Michaels standing over her.
She cringes.
ALICE
Im sorry, I was just -He cuts her off with a wave of the hand. Finally the hard man
softens.
MICHAELS
Leukemia? You plan on telling the
FBI about that at some stage?
ALICE
I have it under control.
MICHAELS
Not according to your doctor you
dont.
(he sighs)
We could have helped.
ALICE
I checked. Not covered under
standard agent health care. Not the
treatment I need anyway.

13.
MICHAELS
I meant we, the people. Your
friends. Dont you at least want to
talk to someone about it?
She avoids eye contact.
MICHAELS
Jesus, the doctor said you might
not even...
(gathers himself)
Im putting you on forced leave as
of right now -ALICE
You cant do that.
MICHAELS
I just did. For gods sake, the
doctor says you need to start
treatment immediately if youre to
have any chance of...
He squeezes her hand. Genuine concern. She nods.
MICHAELS
Look, these could be your last
days. Spend them wisely.
INT. ALICES APARTMENT - NIGHT
A modest apartment. Practical, simple.
Alice stares out the window....
She breaks from her trance. Strides into her room, returns
with her state of the art tablet/hybrid laptop. Types away
furiously.
Loads screen after screen of articles detailing leukemia. She
reads, and reads, and reads...
Her attention wanes, she loads the stolen case files. Stares
at the brutal evidence photos. Studies the documents. Intense
curiosity. Fixated.
LATER - Frayed, burnt out - she slams the computer shut. Cups
her face in her hands. Rubs her forehead.
Makes a beeline for the fridge. Digs deep, finds what shes
looking for. A bottle of wine -- barely a mouthful left.
She scours the cupboards. Frustrated, she heads for the door.

14.
INT. CLUB - NIGHT
Dark, loud. Alice looks out of place in her skirt and blouse.
She notes a pair of SKANKS in tight dresses. Puts her glasses
away. Undoes her top button. Knocks back the rest of her
vodka, lime, and bitters.
INT. CLUB BATHROOM - NIGHT
Alice wanders in, more frazzled than before. Her hair no
longer neatly tied up.
She pushes a stall open. Inside a WOMAN sits on a MANS lap.
He snorts coke off her cleavage -- The woman glares at Alice.
WOMAN
Fuck off.
Alice tries the next stall. Empty. She takes a seat.
More snorting noises. The woman SQUEALS.
MAN (O.S.)
I feel fucking invincible!
INT. CLUB - NIGHT
Alice orders another drink. The bartender brings it over.
ALICE
And a shot. Something strong.
The bartender eyes her up and down. She tries to flutter her
eyelashes. Doesnt quite pull it off.
He shrugs, gets her the drinks anyway.
Across the club, hidden in the shadows, someone watches her.
EXT. CLUB - NIGHT
Alice staggers about. Now thoroughly intoxicated. Loses one
of her shoes. Nearly falls over trying to pick it up.
A GRUBBY MAN catches her.
GRUBBY MAN
Careful there sweetheart.
He holds her up against the wall. Grip a little too tight.

15.
She tries to push him away to no avail.
He leans in. Nuzzles her neck. Grabs her ass.
ALICE
(slurred from here on)
Hey. Stop that. I have a gun.
She struggles. Unable to maneuver against his large bulk.
He gives her a big drunken grin full of stained teeth.
GRUBBY MAN
Come on sugar, lets have some fun.
He leans in for a kiss. She squirms.
An inch from her face he stops. Momentarily confused...
-- Hes yanked backward. Then slammed full speed, face first
into the brick wall. He collapses in a heap, clutches his
nose. Blood flows between his fingers.
Standing there is Tony looking debonair as ever. He puts on
his charming smile. Offers his hand.
INT. ALICES APARTMENT - NIGHT
Alice staggers in, arm deep in her bag. Tony follows her.
She spins round, yanks her arm out, GUN in hand.
ALICE (SLURRED)
Thats far enough. Just because you
have nicer clothes doesnt make you
any better than Mr. Doesnt-bothershowering back there.
Tony holds his hands up in mock surrender, but keeps coming.
She backs away a little. Gun swaying to and fro in her
drunken stupor. Tony shuts the door.
TONY
Put the gun away, Agent Heatan.
ALICE
How do you know my name?
TONY
A little birdie told me.