Strange Days Page #15

Vita weighs in... gut-punching Lenny savagely. She works

him expertly, with a series of painful jabs.

He sags to his knees. Not only is this painful. It's

goddamn humiliating. And Duncan and Corto enjoy every

second of it.

CORTO:

We tried to find a smaller girl, to

beat the sh*t out of you, Lenny...

but it was short notice.

Vita grabs Lenny by his hair and pulls him up with one

rock-hard arm. She is cocking back the other arm for a

pile-driver punch when...

Suddenly a dark shape materializes behind her. Mace

drives Vita head first into the steel column.

Duncan lunges in and grabs for Mace. This is a mistake.

Mace doesn't fight fancy. And she doesn't fight fair.

She fights to win. And she is awesomely fast. Her moves

are street moves, coupled with arm-locks and come-alongs

she has been trained to use as a security driver.

Lenny recovers enough to size up Vita, who is still a

little stunned. She has blood dripping in her eyes and

can't see too well.

But she charges him. And -- being the gent that he is --

he busts her over the head with a dusty old folding chair.

Mace drops Duncan about the time Vita is hitting the

ground, leaving...

CORTO, who fumbles out a Beretta 9mm and sticks it in

Mace's face. He sniggers, loving the upper hand.

MACE:

Safety's on.

And like a jerk, he looks.

She snaps sideways in a headfake and closes blindingly

fast, twisting the gun out of his hand. She continues to

twist his wrist brutally and Corto goes down to one knee,

groaning. She takes his Beretta and backhands the barrel

hard across his face. Mace releases his wrist and he

crumples in a heap.

She and Lenny back out the door. Then Lenny runs back in

and kicks Corto in the ribs.

MACE:

Lenny!

Mace grabs him and pulls him out of the room, then slams

the metal firedoor behind them, locking it with a piece of

junk wedged behind the release bar.

CUT TO:

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Mace and Lenny hotfoot it toward the parked limo. Mace is

disassembling the Beretta without looking at it. She

chucks pieces over a chain-link fence as they go. Lenny

brushes himself off, checking his jacket for damage. He

is high from winning the fight.

LENNY:

Is this great fabric or what?

MACE:

You ever wonder why you get beat up

a lot?

LENNY:

Never really thought about it.

CUT TO:

INT. LENNY'S APARTMENT

Squid POV:
the killer enters the vacant hotel room,

passing the mirror on the dresser.

LENNY (V.O.)

Come on... look in the mirror. You

know it's there, you're keeping your

eyes off it, you bastard... SH*T!

Who are you?

CUT TO:
Lenny, yanking the wire off his head, Mace near

him.

LENNY:

He knows what he's doing. He's worn

before... a lot.

MACE:

So that gives you something.

LENNY:

It gives me... I don't know... maybe

two hundred people who I know wear.

As he talks Lenny fiddles with some custom electronics

gear. The back is off the deck, and he has a ribbon wire

connecting it to some kind of amplifier black-box which he

is using to boost the gain.

MACE:

Don't crank the gain any more.

You're gonna fry yourself.

LENNY:

I need to see more... get more

detail. Something. I feel his

presence, so strong...

Mace watches, concerned, as Lenny puts the trodes back on

and hits playback.

Squid POVs:
strobe-like images of Iris' rape and death,

separated by burst of static...

... as Lenny keeps hitting the forward and rewind buttons,

searching the tape for clues, reacting to the feelings on

the tape, trying to manage his revulsion...

... until Mace yanks the trodes off and Lenny sags back on

the couch. He rubs his eyes. He is seeing ghosts,

afterimages burned into his visual cortex. The room is

alive with them, shimmering.

MACE:

No more, Lenny.

LENNY:

Yeah. I'm ghosting pretty bad.

Lenny see Iris' terrified face. Literally. It floats

iridescent on his living room wall, fading slowly.

LENNY:

She came to me for help. I should

have read it better... I just

figured, y'know... another strung-

out hooker having a bad night.

MACE:

It's not your fault.

Lenny gets up, staggering to the kitchen. She goes with

him.

LENNY:

Sex killers act alone. So there's

no information on the street, which

is how cases get made. Cops know

they'll never nail this guy the

second they look at the scene.

Lenny sucks down four Tylenol with a long pull from a

bottle of vodka.

LENNY:

And anyway, nobody gives a sh*t

about a dead hooker. They're

roadkill.

Requiem for Iris. Mace watches Lenny rubbing his eyes,

waiting for the Tylenols to hit.

LENNY:

See, it's all about what they see

walking in. A dead hooker,

handcuffs, penetration... they'll

see a trick gone wrong. Random

kill. The kind you never solve.

MACE:

But that doesn't add, does it.

LENNY:

No it doesn't.

MACE:

Because Iris knew somebody was after

her.

Lenny, wound up like a Swiss movement, starts pacing.

LENNY:

She said "If they get me". They.

Which means the whole sex-killer

thing is a cover, which means

somebody whacked her for a reason.

MACE:

So the guy's not a sicko.

LENNY:

If he could do what's on that tape,

he's a sicko.

MACE:

Okay, so he's a freak who thinks

he's sane pretending to be a freak.

The point is, he was a hitter.

Somebody wanted to shut her up. But

why not just put a little lead in

her ear?

LENNY:

Because it had to look random. Not

connected to anything or anyone.

(he seems to run out

of energy)

But then why give the rape to me?

MACE:

That's where it gets a little

strange.

LENNY:

And what about the guy that was

following me?

MACE:

Now you're really getting paranoid.

Lenny collapses on the couch, rubbing his temples.

LENNY:

The question is not whether I am

paranoid, but whether I am paranoid

enough. You want to rub my neck?

MACE:

Sure.

Mace sits next to him and starts to work. Strong, knowing

fingers. Lenny starts to relax a little.

LENNY:

How's Zander?

MACE:

OK. He asks about you all the time.

It's been weeks since you've seen

him.

Lenny sort of keels over. His head slumps in her lap.

MACE:

I'm sorry about getting on your case

earlier. I just see you getting

sucked in deeper and deeper, and I

-- anyway. I'm sorry.

LENNY:

(drifting off,

joking)

S'okay. I know you still love me.

She looks down at him, gently brushes his hair off his

sweaty forehead in an unconsciously maternal gesture. He

is out cold.

Mace gazes at Lenny's sleeping face in a way we haven't

seen before:
unguarded. Caring. Loving.

And we get it:
she does love him. It makes no sense, and

it is a great burden to her that he doesn't see her... but

there it is.

She shakes it off: she doesn't want to deal with it now.

Maybe not ever. She leans her head back against the ratty

top of the couch, sighs. And keeps her hand moving

soothingly on his head.

CUT TO:

EXT./ INT. MACE'S HOUSE/INGLEWOOD - DAY

Mace pulls the limo into the driveway of a modest stucco

house in Inglewood. It's dawn. A neighbor is walking the

dog. Mace heads into the house, picking up a couple of

toys left scattered in the front yard.

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