Strange Days Page #16

Inside, ZANDER, age 6, is watching TV in his pajamas and

eating a bowl of cereal. Behind him, on the couch, is

Mace's younger sister CECILE, zee'd-out. Zander frowns at

her and looks at a red-plastic (toy) watch.

ZANDER:

Where were you Mom? Did you meet a

guy?

MACE:

Just Lenny.

ZANDER:

Right. That explains it.

MACE:

Are you going to make me beg?

Zander scrambles over to his mom, throws his arms around

her. Big hug.

MACE:

(looking at weird

stuff in cereal)

What is that?

ZANDER:

Cheerios and wieners. I made it

myself. It's good.

MACE:

Well give me some then... I'm

starving.

CUT TO:

INT. LENNY'S APARTMENT

2:
20 P.M. DEC 31

Lenny wakes up to the sound of the phone ringing. He is

on the couch, still clothed. He hears Max's voice on the

answer machine and groggily grabs the receiver.

MAX (V.O.)

Hey, the last day of the world and

you spend it in bed.

LENNY:

W'sup, Max?

CUT TO:

EXT. A.M.E. CHURCH AND STREET/SOUTH CENTRAL - DAY

Max, on the cellular, across the street from a church

where mourners stream out of a memorial for Jeriko One.

The sidewalk and street are clogged with fans, and further

off -- a cordon of very anxious-looking crowd control

cops.

MAX:

Not a whole hell of a lot. They've

just been saying words over Jeriko.

Tensions running pretty high down

here. I'm telling you.

WHAT MAX SEES across the street... SLOWMO as Tran comes

out of the church with Faith next to him. Corto, Vita,

Duncan and Beemer form a loose protective shell around

them as the press bears down, shouting out questions.

Tran ushers Faith into a waiting limo and climbs in after

her. The rest of the muscle keeps the press away from the

car as it pulls away.

CUT TO:
Max, still on the phone to Lenny.

LENNY (V.O.)

Faith OK?

MAX:

Yeah. She's leaving with Tran so I

got to boogie. Real quick... Iris

checked into the Sheraton last night

under a false name. Paid cash.

LENNY:

Looks like she was holding out.

MAX:

Yup. Hey, so I heard you dropped in

on Tran last night. Another slick

Lenny move.

LENNY (V.O.)

He's in this somehow... I don't know

how. Just stay close to Faith.

MAX:

I'm on her, amigo. No worries.

Gotta jam.

CUT TO:

INT. LENNY'S APARTMENT

As Lenny is hanging up he notices something. A MANILA

ENVELOPE stuck between the steel bars and the glass of his

front window, next to the door. "NERO" is printed on the

envelope.

Oh sh*t. He opens the door, looking both ways. No-one is

around. He fishes out the envelope from behind the bars

and takes it inside. Of course it contains a tape. He

stares at it with dread.

Lenny sits down and put the tape in his playback deck. He

picks up the trodes and places them on his head. He

notices his hands are shaking. He takes a deep breath and

punches PLAY.

POV SEQUENCE:
DAY. As expected we see the de-saturated

signature look of the killer's vision. The Wearer is

walking through the courtyard of Lenny's apartment

building. We recognize it by the unkempt pool, the sunken

deck furniture. We walk through a breezeway to an ally-

like courtyard behind the building. We approach a door...

the back door to Lenny's apartment.

The killer picks the lock on the back door. Opens the

door and enters. The apartment is dark, blacked out. We

are in the kitchen. We stop and listen. Water dripping

in the sink. Soft snoring from the living room.

Moving to the other room. Slowly, silently. Furtively

looking around the door frame to the living room. There

is Lenny, crashed out on the couch.

Now moving stealthily toward him. Kneeling down beside

him. Lenny, burned out from the night before, is deep

under. Our hand comes into view, holding the yellow

plastic razor knife. With his thumb, the killer extends

the blade... click, click, click, click.

The blade flashes in a beam of sunlight as it moves toward

Lenny. The killer lays it gently against Lenny's throat.

Draws it slowly across... not leaving a mark.

The POV backs away and -- static as the tape ends.

LENNY, IN THE PRESENT, whips off the trodes, freaking. He

feels around his throat with one hand... can't feel

anything.

Crossing quickly to a mirror near the front door, he

inspects his neck minutely. There is a hair-line red line

over his carotid. He looks around the room wildly, his

heart hammering. Slowly, he gets his breathing under

control.

Then... he hears something in the kitchen. A tiny click.

His eyes go wide. Hyperventilating, Lenny moves silently

into the bedroom. He fishes around under the bed and

pulls out a GLOCK 22 .45 auto pistol. He stalks silently

toward the kitchen.

Then he looks at the butt of the pistol-grip: no magazine.

He un-stalks back to the bed and finds a loaded magazine

under a bunch of dirty socks. He inserts it quietly,

wincing as he chambers a round.

Heart thudding, he works his way to the kitchen door. He

edges around the frame, pie-ing the room. Cop reflexes

intact.

Mace is sitting at the kitchen table, giving him a funny

look. She is drinking a cup of coffee, made from the

bottle of instant on the counter. She is dressed

casually, in bicycle pants, work boots and oversized nylon

jacket over a tank-top.

MACE:

Whatup Lenny?

LENNY:

(hands shaking)

Jesus, Mace!

CUT TO:

INT. LENNY'S APARTMENT

A little later. As Lenny tosses stuff into a folding bag:

clothes, a playback deck, a box of .45 hollow points. He

grabs his grimy old Second Chance body armor from the LAPD

and stuffs it into his Haliburton. When Mace sees him do

that, she knows things are freaky.

MACE:

Where we going?

LENNY:

Anywhere.

(finger to his lips)

We'll talk about it in the car.

Mace glances around... unnerved by the possibility of

audio surveillance.

LENNY:

Hand me that box of tapes, will you?

He's pointing to a shoe box full of "Faith" tapes. Mace

hands them over with obvious distaste. He throws them in

the bag, starts to zip it...

... then sees his reflection in the bedroom mirror:

something's the matter.

MACE:

What is it?

LENNY:

This tie doesn't go with blue!

He yanks off the tie and grabs another.

CUT TO:

INT./ EXT. MACE'S LIMO AND STREET - DAY

Mace and Lenny drive through the streets of LA on the last

day of this millennium. There are cops in body armor and

helmets on some street corners, holding automatic rifles.

Helicopters orbit endlessly. And a National Guard tank

rumbles down the street. State of siege. The car radio

is on, with KROQ's poor Man hyping the impending

Millennium LA party.

POOR MAN:

... the New Years Eve mega-bash of

the century. Ten square blocks of

madness, with live music, fireworks

and the actual rich and famous of LA

hobnobbing with us peons. Also

yours truly the Poor Man will be

there at the KROQ bandshell, giving

away "Millennium LA" and "KROQ 2-K"

T-shirts by the truckload--

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