Blade Page #14

---

Frost leans forward, grinning.

FROST:

You can't keep walking the razor's

edge, Blade. The day will come -- and

soon, when you'll have to choose

between our kind and their's. If I

were you, I'd take care not to wind up

on the wrong end of the fang.

A bead of sweat runs down Frost's neck, washing away a minute amount

of the sun-blocking cream. The patch of exposed skin instantly

blackens. Frost gazes upwards at the sun.

FROST:

Love to continue this chat, but it

appears I'm melting.

Frost rises, taking the little girl by the hand. Blade follows, his

hand resting on the butt of his Casull.

BLADE:

You're not going anywhere.

FROST:

(growling)

Watch me.

Frost's eyes flicker towards the street -- a CITY BUS is rumbling by.

In a heartbeat, Frost hurls the little girl forward --

-- out into the path of the oncoming bus!

Blade has a split-second to act. It's Frost or the girl -- and for a

moment we actually think he's going to go for Frost --

-- but then he DIVES forward, scooping the girl into his arms,

throwing themselves out of the bus' path. The bus misses them by a

hair. By the time Blade looks up again --

-- Frost is gone. Blade rises, cursing, scanning the street as

market-goers gather around him.

WHIP PAN TO --

SOMEONE sitting astride a motorcycle, watching Blade from the roof of

an elevated parking garage. The rider is clad from head to toe in a

helmet and black leather -- Mercury.

EXT. ABANDONED FACTORY - DAY

Blade's Olds cruises into the gated grounds. It zips down the ramp

way into the loading elevator.

BACK BY THE TRAIN TRACKS --

Mercury's cycle rolls into frame. She picks up a radio handset and

keys it.

MERCURY:

(into radio)

This is Mercury. Tell Deacon I've

found their hiding place.

CUT TO:

INT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - DAY

Blade enters through the loading elevator, finding Karen and Whistler

hard at work. She turns as he approaches -- SEES him back-lit by the

sun. She looks pale, the whites of her eyes are streaked with red.

BLADE:

Any progress?

KAREN:

Some. It's been slow --

BLADE:

You don't look so good.

KAREN:

I'm just tired, that's all. We've been

up all night.

Blade nods, not buying her explanation. He shoots a glance to

Whistler, which doesn't go unnoticed by Karen.

KAREN:

Excuse me.

Karen turns, heading for the back of the workshop.

INT. WORKSHOP - BATHROOM - NIGHT

Karen enters a dingy bathroom, turning on the overhead bulb. She

studies her reflection in the mirror above the sink, then grimaces as

she peels the dressing from her wound -- the wound is clearly

infected, gangrenous.

BLADE (O.S.)

It's started.

Karen spins, startled. Blade stands behind her. He grips her jaw,

turning her head so he can better view the wound.

BLADE:

You've got another day or two at most.

Karen nods, shaken. As she moves to leave, Blade reaches for her arm,

stopping her.

BLADE:

For what it's worth, I'm sorry.

KAREN:

You make it sound like I'm already

dead.

Blade just stares at her. Finally, she pulls away.

EXT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - DUSK

CLOSE ON Karen as she moves to the grimy outer windows, watching the

sun go down, an unmistakable look of dread creeping over her.

CUT TO:

EXT. LANDFILL GHETTO - DUSK

Windy. Urban desolation. Blade stands on the perimeter of a sprawling

cardboard and plywood squatter's ghetto which has sprung up around

the city dump. CHILDREN and DOGS forage for salvageable items, while

in the distance, dumptrucks grind over the dunes of refuse.

MOMENTS LATER,

Blade is winding his way through the maze of makeshift homes and

ashcan fires. A CROWD quickly closes in around him, suspicious. A

BRUTISH MAN steps forward, challenging him --

MAN:

Extranjero. ¿Quien es?

BLADE:

I'm here to see Miracia. Kam sent me.

The man turns to his fellow squatters, WHISPERING. After a heated

debate, a GAUNT WOMAN steps forward, motioning --

WOMAN:

This way.

CUT TO:

INT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT

Whistler and Karen sit at a work table. Karen is looking at a blood

smear slide through a microscope.

KAREN:

All right, let's start with the basics

-- why do vampires need to drink

blood?

WHISTLER:

Their own blood can't sustain

hemoglobin.

KAREN:

Then vampirism is a genetic defect,

just like Hemolytic anemia?

Whistler nods.

KAREN:

So what about gene therapy?

Whistler looks intrigued. Karen continues.

KAREN:

Basically you'd have to re-write the

victim's DNA, alter it so that the DNA

will produce proteins capable of

generating hemoglobin.

WHISTLER:

How?

KAREN:

With a retrovirus. It's injected into

the bone marrow cells, it causes the

host's DNA to mutate. They've been

using them to treat Sickle-cell

anemia.

Whistler can hardly believe what he's hearing.

WHISTLER:

You're serious? You actually think

this could work?

Karen pauses -- we can see in her expression that there's something

she's been holding back.

KAREN:

On me, yes. On Blade, I'm not so

sure --

(gravely)

The problem is, Blade didn't contract

the vampire virus from a bite like I

did. He was born with it. The irony

is, I could probably cure every

vampire but him.

WHISTLER:

Then we're back to square one, aren't

we? Sooner or later, the Thirst always

wins.

At that moment, the lights in the workshop flicker, then go out.

Karen looks around the room, alarmed.

KAREN:

What happened to the power?

WHISTLER:

(concerned)

I don't know, but the back-up

generator should've kicked in.

A few seconds pass. The back-up generator still hasn't activated.

Whistler moves to the window --

WHISTLER:

UV floodlights are down too.

As Whistler reaches for a flashlight we hear the sound of GLASS

SHATTERING coming from the other end of the workshop. Whistler shines

the flashlight in that direction. We hear more sounds now -- water

draining, glass tinkling.

Whistler raises a finger to his lips, signaling silence. He edges

towards the black-out curtains, Karen falling in behind him.

INT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - TANK ROOM - NIGHT

Whistler and Karen enter, cautious --

THE TANK:

containing the vampire child has been smashed open. It's empty now,

with just the steadily draining blood seeping across the floor in a

widening pool -- and a trail of tiny BLOODY FOOTPRINTS leading back

out into the main workshop.

INT. WHISTLER'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT

Karen scans the shadows, eyes alert. We hear a WHISPER, then a

teasing, childish, GIGGLE.

Whistler moves the flashlight in a slow circle, shining the beam over

every inch of the room. And just as he's about to complete his

circuit --

THE CHILD:

leaps from where it had been hiding overhead! Karen SCREAMS.

Whistler is knocked to the floor, the flashlight spinning from his

hand --

The feral child lands atop Whistler, HISSING like a cobra. Its

macrocephalic head seems to morph, twisting into grotesque

proportions. And just as it's about to strike --

ZZZZING! Whistler withdraws a silver rapier which had been hidden

inside his cane. He lunges forward --

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