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THE SHOW OPENS. AN OLD TRUCK DRIVES DOWN A DARK ROAD. AS IT PASSES, TOM AND SLOAN EMERGE FROM BEHIND SOME TREES. THEY LOOK ACROSS THE STREET TO A SEEDY MOTEL. TOM IS WEARING HIS BLACK WINDBREAKER-STYLE COAT, A BLACK CREW NECK SHIRT AND BLACK PANTS.
Sloan: What do you think?
Tom: I think weíre a hundred miles from home and no oneís gonna recognize us.
TOM AND SLOAN CROSS THE STREET AND NEAR THE MOTEL.
Sloan: Unless they read the paper.
Tom: Out here, I donít even think they deliver the paper.
Sloan: Iíll go in. Itís your picture theyíve been flashing around most.
Tom: You have any sunglasses?
SLOAN REACHES INTO HER EXTREMELY LARGE PURSE AND PRODUCES A PAIR OF SUNGLASSES. SHE GIVES TOM A PUZZLED LOOK.
Tom: Put Ďem on.
Tom: Youíre running away from your husband and no one can know youíre here.
SLOAN NODS HER HEAD IN UNDERSTANDING AND PUTS THE SUNGLASSES ON. TOM GIVES HER A SMALL SMILE AND NODS AS SHE TURNS TO GO IN.
AT A FUNERAL HOME. KELLY LIES IN A CASKET, EYES CLOSED, HANDS FOLDED OVER ONE ANOTHER. ED ENTERS AND WALKS UP THE AISLE TO A MAN AND A WOMAN.
Ed: Mr. and Mrs. Hammond?
Mrs. Hammond: Dr. Tate. Thanks so much for coming. It means a lot to us, seeing how you were the last person to spend some time with Kelly.
Ed: I wanted to be here.
Mr. Hammond: We spoke to the medical examiner about his findings earlier today. He says he has no idea what happened to Kelly.
Ed: I know.
Mrs. Hammond: But how could that be? I mean, even with everything that youíve told us about who this..about what this man was, who took our Kelly....I just donít understand.
Ed: Neither do I, Mrs. Hammond, but I promise you, I won't stop until I do.
Mr. Hammond: Thank you.
ED RISES AND APPROACHES THE CASKET. HE RESTS A HAND ON KELLYíS AS HE STARES DOWN AT THE DECEASED GIRL. HIS EYES BULGE IN SHOCK AS HE SEES SOMETHING MOVING UNDER THE SKIN OF KELLYíS NECK.
AT THE ANNEX MOTEL, THE NEXT MORNING. SLOAN IS SLEEPING. SHE WAKES UP WITH A JOLT, SITTING UP AND LOOKING AROUND. SHE LOOKS OVER AT TOM, SLEEPING IN AN UPHOLSTERED CHAIR BY THE FRONT WINDOW. (HE LOOKS REALLY SWEET IN REPOSE.) SHE GRABS A BLANKET FROM HER BED AND COVERS HIM. HE WAKES AND LOOKS UP AT HER.
Sloan: Iím sorry.
Tom: Thatís alright. I wasnít sleeping.
Sloan: Then what were you doing?
Tom: Thinking. About Lewis.
Sloan: Join the club.
SLOAN SITS BACK DOWN ON THE EDGE OF THE BED.
Sloan: I still canít figure out why Lewis shot Lisa and not you and me.
Tom: Heís toying with us.
Sloan: But why? Why would he pass up the chance to kill us and then force us underground instead? It doesnít make sense.
Tom: Not to us. Thatís what concerns me.
AT THE BIO LAB. ED RUSHES THROUGH THE DOORS OF THE LAB AND INTO THE LIBRARY ROOM. ATTWOOD IS READING THROUGH A BOOK. HE TURNS AS ED ENTERS.
Ed: We have to do an autopsy on Kelly Hammondís body.
Attwood: We donít have Kelly Hammondís body.
Ed: Well trust me, we need to get it.
THEY EXIT THE LIBRARY AND BRISKLY WALK THROUGH THE LAB AREA.
Ed: Look, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but thereís something inside it. I mean, I saw something...moving....Under her skin.
Attwood: Ed, I understand you were emotionally involved with Kelly, and a certain level of disorientation is to be expected with grief.
Ed: I admit Iím disoriented. But I know what I saw. The question is, what is it? And are you gonna help me find it?
Attwood: How is this relevant to our work here?
Ed: How is it relevant?!? Kelly got the rash on her neck after she was in the cave with Lynch. This, this lump...might be connected.
Attwood: Iíll need the parentsí consent. Theyíre aware of her contact with the new species?
Ed: They read the paper.
Attwood: Get them to sign a release. Iíll arrange whatever you need.
Ed: You got it.
ED BUSTLES OUT AND ATTWOOD ENTERS HIS OFFICE.
AT THE ANNEX MOTEL. SLOAN WALKS FROM THE KITCHEN AREA CARRYING A GLASS OF WATER. SHE LAYS ON HER STOMACH ON THE BED, FLIPS OPEN A FOLDED NEWSPAPER, AND STARTS READING IT. PICTURES OF HER AND TOM COVER THE FRONT PAGE. TOM SITS IN HIS CHAIR, ELBOWS ON HIS KNEES, HANDS FOLDED, THINKING. HEíS TAKEN OFF THE COAT TO REVEAL A LONG SLEEVE BLACK T-SHIRT. (DOES ANYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD LOOK THIS GOOD IN BLACK? I JUST DONíT THINK SO.)
Sloan: They only want me for harboring a fugitive. You they want for twenty-six murders.
SLOAN LOOKS UP AT TOM.
Sloan: Did you kill all these people?
TOM GLANCES OVER AT HER, UNCERTAIN, THEN LOOKS AWAY.
Sloan: But you said--
Tom: (forcefully) Sloan...
Sloan: I need to know this, Tom.
Tom: Five. I killed five people.
Sloan: On orders?
Tom: If that makes a difference. It was programming.
Sloan: Was I the first, that you didnít kill?
Tom: There was one before you...a teenager...a boy....young, but uh...with incredible potential. Brilliant mind...
Sloan: (aghast) A teenaged boy?
Tom: When I went to umm..... His mother showed up and she begged me, to take her life, instead of his. Iíd never seen such compassion, such desperation, to be willing to give oneís life for another.
Sloan: How did Lewis react?
Tom: I never told him...the truth. And a week later I met you.
AT THE HAMMOND HOME. MR. HAMMOND STANDS BY THE HEARTH, WHILE ED OCCUPIES A CHAIR AND MRS. HAMMOND SITS ON THE SOFA.
Mr. Hammond: (angrily) Iím afraid I donít understand. We talked about the medical examinerís findings.
Ed: I know. All I can tell you is that he apparently missed something.
Mr. Hammond: I saw....what he did to my little girl. I am sure you know. How can we put our Kelly through that again?
Ed: I know you want answers. You want to know what happened to your daughter. So do I. Without examining her again those answers may be lost forever.
Mrs. Hammond: The funeralís tomorrow. All those people. I just donít know.
Ed: Your daughter was killed, Mrs. Hammond. She didnít just mysteriously die. This may be our best shot at getting at those behind her death.
Mr. Hammond: If you think you can figure out who and what killed my little girl, then you do what you have to do.
AT THE ANNEX MOTEL. SLOAN CLEANS UP TAKE-OUT BOXES IN THE KITCHEN. TOM WALKS PAST HER CARRYING A PAPER CUP, CHEWING, AND REACHES TO GET A NAPKIN FROM THE TOP OF THE REFRIGERATOR. HE WIPES HIS MOUTH AND TOSSES THE NAPKIN INTO THE GARBAGE. (NO TOM GESTURE OR MOTION LEFT UN-TRANSCRIBED! ITíS NOT JUST A MOTTO, ITS A WAY OF LIFE!) SLOAN WALKS INTO THE NEXT ROOM AND FLICKS ON THE TV.
Tom: (calling to her from the kitchen) Donít, please.
SLOAN LOOKS UP AT HIM THROUGH THE DOORWAY.
Tom: Iím tired of seeing my face every thirty minutes.
(BOY, I WOULDNíT BE! THAT IN FACT SOUNDS LIKE NIRVANA TO ME!)
Sloan:Iíll find a sitcom.
TOM ENTERS THE SLEEPING/LIVING ROOM.
Tom: Ohhh. I donít feel like laughing.
Sloan: (turning to Tom) Do you laugh?
TOM SITS IN A CHAIR NEXT TO THE BED, STILL HOLDING HIS DRINK, AND CROSSES ONE LEG OVER THE OTHER. HE LOOKS AT SLOAN.
Tom: What are you talking about?
Sloan: (smiling) You. I have NEVER see you laugh.
Tom: (with a shrug) Well...thatís because I donít remember being is a situation with you where something was funny.
Sloan: So you do find humor in things?
Sloan: Ok, let me see if I can make you laugh...
SLOANíS EYES BRIGHTEN AS SHE CLIMBS ACROSS THE BED TO FACE TOM. SHE KNEELS ON THE BED AND FLASHES HIM A WIDE GRIN. (I CANNOT POSSIBLY DESCRIBE HOW CUTE HE LOOKS IN THESE SCENES.)
Tom: (dragging her name out) Sloan....
Sloan: This old ladyís being robbed...
SLOAN POINTS HER FINGERS AT TOM AS IF THEY WERE PISTOLS.
Tom: A joke? Is this a test?
Sloan: So she hands the robber all her money. He says, ĎThatís it?í She says yes. He starts searching her, all over her body--
Tom: (dryly) Maybe we should watch television.
Sloan: Iím not finished.
HE GIVES HER A HUMORING LOOK.
Sloan: ...So heís searching, feeling all over her body, looking for money. Feels her waist, feels her chest, feels her backside. Nothing. Heís like, ĎWhereís your money?í Sheís like, ĎI donít have any more! But donít stop lookiní, Iíll send ya a check.í
TOM LAUGHS, SENDING SLOAN A GORGEOUS SMILE. SLOAN BREAKS UP AT HER OWN JOKE. TOM SLOWLY BOBS HIS HEAD UP AND DOWN.
Tom: (still smiling) Well, thatís not bad...
Sloan: (flabbergasted) Not bad? Thatís all I get?
Tom: (thinking about it and giving a shrug) Yeah.
SLOAN LAUGHS. (SIGH. REWIND THAT AND WATCH IT AGAIN!)
EXTERIOR, ANNEX MOTEL. THE CAMERA PANS DOWN TO A MAN IN A CAR ON A CELL PHONE. ITíS LEWIS IN HIS BMW.
Voice on phone: Nine-one-one operator. Whatís your emergency?
Lewis: I know where the police can find the man they want for all those cult killings.
MORTICIAN TECHS WHEEL KELLYíS CASKET PAST HER PARENTS INTO THE LIFE SCIENCES BUILDING. ED AND ATTWOOD STAND NEXT TO THE HAMMONDS.
Ed: (to the Couple) Thank you.
Mr. Hammond: Take care of her. Please.
Ed: I will.
ED AND ATTWOOD TURN AND FOLLOW THE CASKET INSIDE. THE HAMMONDS LOOK ON AFTER THEM.
(OH DEAR LORD. ITíS WHAT WEíVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR. THE MOST-PLAYED SCENE IN PREYDOM. BRACE YOURSELF. THIS IS QUITE POSSIBLY EVEN BETTER THAN THE BROWN PANTS IN EPISODE THREE.) AT THE ANNEX MOTEL, NIGHTTIME. SLOAN EXITS THE BATHROOM, DRYING HER FACE ON A TOWEL. SHEíS ONLY WEARING HER LITTLE BROWN CAMISOLE AND HER JEANS. SHE LOOKS OVER AT TOM, SETTLING INTO THE UPHOLSTERED CHAIR, AND STOPS.
Sloan: Oh, this is ridiculous. You canít sleep in the chair again.
Tom: Itís alright.
HE ADJUSTS THE BLANKET OVER HIMSELF.
Tom: Just donít tell me any more jokes.
Sloan: Iím serious. I feel guilty taking the bed. I mean, weíre in this together. You need your sleep as much as I do.
HE COCKS HIS HEAD AND LOOKS UP AT HER AS SHE SITS ON THE EDGE OF THE BED.
Sloan: (patting the bed beside her) Come on.
HE ALMOST IMPERCEPTIBLY SHAKES HIS HEAD NO.
Sloan: (with a grin) I promise not to examine you in your sleep.
TOMíS EYEBROWS RAISE A NOTCH AS HE TILTS HIS HEAD. HE PUSHES THE BLANKET BACK AS HE SITS UP.
Tom: (all smooth-like) Just one thing, uh...I like the left side.
SLOAN DIPS HER HEAD, SMILING, AND GESTURES IN A ĎITíS ALL YOURSí WAY AS SHE GETS UP AND MOVES TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BED. TOM SETTLES IN, PROPPING THE PILLOW AGAINST THE HEADBOARD AND SITTING STRAIGHT UP IN THE BED. SLOAN, LAYING UNDER THE COVERS NEXT TO HIM, LOOKS UP AT THE MAN.
Sloan: (wryly) So, what youíre just gonna sit up like that?
TOM LOOKS DOWN AT SLOAN.
Tom: (as if it has just occurred to him) No.
TOM SCOOTS DOWN THE BED AWKWARDLY. HE SETTLES DOWN AND EXHALES. SLOAN STARES AT HIM FOR A MINUTE, ROLLS HER EYES, THEN LEANS OVER HIM AND SHUTS OFF THE LAMP SITTING ON THE STAND NEXT TO HIM. HE GLANCES AT HER AS SHE LEANS OVER HIM, HER CHEST INCHES FROM HIS FACE. HE INHALES THE SCENT OF HER HAIR AS IT BRUSHES HIS FACE.
SLOAN RETURNS TO HER PILLOW, AND THEY BOTH STARE UP AT THE CEILING OF THE DARKENED ROOM. AFTER A BIT, SLOAN LOOKS OVER AT TOM.
Sloan: Thank you for trusting me.
Tom: With what?
TOM TURNS HIS HEAD TO LOOK AT HER, THEN TURNS ON HIS SIDE, PUTTING HIS HAND UNDER THE PILLOW AND PROPPING HIS HEAD UP. HE LOOKS DOWN AT SLOAN, LYING ON HER PILLOW.
Tom: It wasnít easy to tell you.
Sloan: I know. And I donít judge you. By what you did. By the past.
Tom: Doesnít make it right.
Sloan: No. But what youíve done...what youíre doing....who you are can help to make it right.
Tom: (oh-so-softly) Hmmm.
TOM ROLLS OVER AND BRACES HIMSELF ON HIS FOREARMS, LOOKING OVER AT SLOAN AS HE PULLS HER BENEATH HIM. HE LOWERS HIS HEAD, BRUSHING HER LIPS WITH HIS.
HE PULLS BACK AND LOWERS HIS HEAD AGAIN, DEEPENING THE KISS. SLOAN SNAKES HER ARMS UP AROUND HIS NECK, THREADING HER FINGERS THROUGH HIS HAIR. HE SLANTS HIS MOUTH OVER HERS AGAIN AND AGAIN, DEVOURING HER LIPS AS A LOW MOAN EMERGES FROM DEEP WITHIN HIS THROAT.
SUDDENLY HE LIFTS HIS HEAD, BREAKING THE KISS. TOM FLASHES ON AN IMAGE OF POLICE CARS WITH FLASHING RED LIGHTS.
Sloan: What is it?
Tom: (dazed) Trouble.
HE LOOKS OVER AT THE WINDOW AND SLOAN DOES THE SAME. SHE SEES THE FLASHING LIGHTS OF THE POLICE CARS AS TIRES SQUEAL OUTSIDE THE MOTEL. SHE PUSHES TOM OFF HER AND OUT OF THE BED.
Sloan: Get out of here!
HE LOOKS AT THE LIGHTS, THEN TURNS BACK TO SLOAN, RISING FROM THE BED.
Sloan: (pushing at his chest) Go, go....dammit, GO!
Tom: (steadfastly) No...Sloan....
Sloan: Go! Go!
SHE PUSHES HIM TOWARDS THE KITCHEN AS THE MOTEL ROOM DOOR BURSTS OPEN. COPS MUSCLE INTO THE ROOM.
Cop #1: Get down!
SLOAN QUICKLY DROPS TO THE FLOOR ON HER STOMACH.
Cop #2: ...went out the window!
COPS EXAMINE THE KITCHEN BUT SEE ONLY A BROKEN-OUT WINDOW. A POLICE OFFICER HANDCUFFS SLOAN AS WE HEAR THE NOISE OF THE COPS IN THE BACKGROUND.
Cop #2: This is Unit Two. We have one suspect matching the description. The male suspect has fled on foot. Send us the canine units so we can start tracking now!
(OKAY, YOUíVE BEEN GOOD. GO BACK AND REWIND THAT 3 OR 4 TIMES. LISTEN CLOSELY, I SWEAR YOUíLL HEAR THAT MOAN. EVEN IF YOU DONíT, REWIND IT ONE MORE TIME FOR GOOD MEASURE.)
AT THE POLICE STATION. RAY WALKS DOWN A HALL AND OVER TO A CELL. WE SEE SLOAN BEHIND THE BARS. SHE LOOKS UP AT RAY AS HE APPROACHES.
Guard: Okay, just call for me when youíre ready to go.
Ray: Thanks. Iíll only be a minute.
Sloan: Thanks for coming. I didnít know what to do.
Ray: I guess staying out of trouble wasnít an option. Well, the good news is, theyíre only gonna charge you with harboring a fugitive.
Sloan: When can I get out?
Ray: Procedure is, youíll be arraigned and the judge will set bail. Now if it were my case, Iíd spring you and hope youíd lead to Tom. They know he was at the motel with you. What happened there?
Sloan: Oh, uh, he got out the back.
Ray: And left you to get arrested.
Sloan: No, it wasnít like that.
Ray: I just call Ďem like I see Ďem, Sloan. Maybe you should try it sometime.
AT THE BIO LAB. ED PULLS BACK A COVER TO REVEAL KELLYíS BODY ON A GURNEY. ATTWOOD STANDS OVER HER.
Attwood: Kelly here was your friend, Ed. I know this isnít easy. But the benefits could be enormous. Donít forget that.
Ed: I know.
Attwood: Now, where did you see this moving object?
Ed: It was just about the clavicle, traveling upwards. I thought it might be just inside the temporal carotid.
Attwood: Then letís make the incision there.
ATTWOOD HANDS ED A SCALPEL.
Ed: Everything appears normal.
Attwood: Well the next most obvious target in that direction of travel would be the brain.
Ed: (looking up) You know she was complaining of headaches. Man, I really donít want to do that to her.
Attwood: We can get a CT scan of the head.
THEY COVER THE BODY BACK UP WITH THE BLANKET AND WHEEL THE GURNEY OUT OF THE ROOM.
AT SLOANíS APARTMENT. SLOAN ENTERS WITH RAY FOLLOWING, AND CLOSES THE DOOR BEHIND HER. SLOAN LOOKS AROUND, PROBABLY FOR YOU-KNOW-WHO.
Sloan: (sighing) Oh, itís good to be home.
Ray: Your house is being watched. Tom may try to contact you and Iíd hate to see you caught in the crossfire.
SLOAN REMOVES HER COAT AND SITS ON ONE OF THE STOOLS AT HER CENTER ISLAND.
Sloan: Tom wouldn't put me in danger.
HE TURNS TO GO.
Ray: You got my pager and telephone numbers...
Sloan: (quickly standing up) Ray! Thanks.
Ray: (smiling as he backs out the door) See ya.
SLOAN LOCKS THE DOOR BEHIND HIM.
EXTERIOR. THE CAMERA PANS OVER THE HOOD OF A BLACK BMW. LEWIS SITS BEHIND THE WHEEL. HE WATCHES RAY EXIT THE ENTRANCE TO SLOANíS APARTMENT AND GET IN HIS DODGE. RAY DRIVES OFF. LEWIS CHECKS HIS SIDE MIRROR, WATCHING THE TWO COPS POSITIONED IN A CAR BEHIND HIM. THEYíRE STAKING OUT SLOANíS APARTMENT.
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