(Logan is sitting on the examination table in Dr. Carr’s office, looking at the ceiling. Dr. Carr taps Logan’s bare foot with an instrument.)

DR. CARR: Feel that?

LOGAN: Yup.

(Dr. Carr pokes Logan’s foot.)

LOGAN: Ouch.

(Dr. Carr waves the instrument at the foot but doesn’t touch it.)

DR. CARR: That?

LOGAN (looking at him): No, Sam, ’cause you didn’t touch me.

DR. CARR: Well, my guess is we’re dealing with phantom sensation.

LOGAN: So how do you explain the fact that last night I was able to move my toe? Not a lot—but it moved.

DR. CARR: Show me.

(Logan goes to move his toe, but nothing happens.)

DR. CARR: Logan, spinal nerve damage does not just heal itself. Not ever.

LOGAN: I’m telling you, this isn’t something I’m imagining.

DR. CARR: I looked at the results of your blood work last night, and I did find something…well, unusual. You have pluripotents circulating in your bloodstream.

LOGAN: What are pluripotents?

DR. CARR: They’re undifferentiated stem cells. It’s what an embryo develops from. They can become any type of cell in the body. Usually, we only see them in the first few weeks after conception, but for some unknown reason, your blood is coursing with them.

LOGAN: So maybe these cells are regenerating what’s been damaged.

DR. CARR: I don’t want to speculate about something I can’t even pretend to understand.

LOGAN: Yeah, but isn’t it possible--

DR. CARR: Anything is possible. I’m not--I’m not telling you not to have hope. But as your doctor, I have a responsibility to give you the medical facts.

LOGAN: I’m getting out of that chair, Sam.

DR. CARR: I’m gonna hold a good thought for you on that. In the meantime, we’ll run some more tests, and we’ll see what we’re dealing with here.

(That night, in Logan’s apartment, he and Max are sitting on the couch. Logan’s feet are bare and his leg is in Max’s lap. She yanks on his toes.)

LOGAN: Ow!

(She gives him an astonished look.)

LOGAN: Only my doctor tells me I’m imagining that it hurts.

MAX: He’s the one with the medical degree, but you think he’s wrong?

LOGAN: He can shove his medical degree. I know he’s wrong. You did this, Max, when you transfused me. Revved-up Manticore blood’s the only explanation.

MAX: We were designed to recover from injuries quicker. Makes sense we’d have a surplus of stem cells.

LOGAN: Which I gotta believe is what’s repairing the nerve damage and reversing the atrophy in my leg muscles.

MAX: All that from one transfusion. You thinking what I’m thinking?

LOGAN: I’m game.

(A short time later, Max and Logan are sitting at the table; Logan is in his wheelchair. They have set up some tubing and begin a blood transfusion by candlelight. Eventually Max falls asleep, head on the table. Finally Logan blows the candle out.)

(Johannessen, Red Five, and Red Six are walking down a street at night. Reds Five and Six are carrying Red Seven on a stretcher. They reach a pyre and set the stretcher down.)

RED SEVEN: I’m ready.

(Red Five helps him up. Red Seven takes a few steps and stumbles. Red Five goes to help him up. Red Seven, who is bleeding from the eyes, waves him off and steps into the middle of the pyre.)

RED SEVEN (reciting): I found freedom in service.

REDS FIVE AND SIX (reciting): You’ve served well.

RED SEVEN: No regrets.

REDS FIVE AND SIX: No regrets.

(Johannessen and Reds Five and Six set fire to the wood of the pyre.)

RED SEVEN (surrounded by flame): The girl. Find her.

(The next morning, Johannessen reaches down to a pile of bones, including a skull, and picks up an implant, which is shaped like a nail or small spike.)

RED FIVE: He only lasted six months.

JOHANNESSEN: He knew the risks when he took the implant. You all did.

RED FIVE: You said we’d have a year.

JOHANNESSEN: I said you’d be paid for a year, whether you lasted that long or not. Look, you want to live? You find the Manticore girl. We retrofit you with her DNA, and you can tolerate the implant for years, serve out your contracts, and retire rich men. We’ve got a partial number off her pager. They’re working on getting the rest.

RED FIVE: What’s taking so long?

(Johannessen continues talking as we see someone working with the pager in a sterile environment.)

JOHANNESSEN: Its memory was wiped when it was damaged. The only way to retrieve the data is to run a quantum scan so they can reconstruct the LCD readout. It’s time-consuming.

(The person slides the pager into a drive and beings working on a computer. On the monitor is an image of a computer chip. The person zooms in on it, and as the image enlarges, we see it become an aerial photograph of a neighborhood. Eventually it zooms onto Max, riding her mountain bike through the streets.)

JOHANNESSEN: Once they get the number, we’ll track down the person that called her last. We set up on that person…let them lead us to the Manticore girl. And this time…she won’t get away.

(At Jam Pony)

ORIGINAL CINDY: ’S’up, my brotha?

HERBAL: Good morning, my sister. Sketchy, my brother.

(Original Cindy and Sketchy glance at each other.)

SKETCHY: You all right?

HERBAL: I am very well, thank you.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Forget to put water in the bong, boo? You talkin’ strange.

HERBAL: I am practicing speaking more clearly.

SKETCHY: Well, what’s wrong with the way you talk when you don’t sound ridiculous?

HERBAL: My woman tells me that it’s difficult for some people...many people...to understand me.

SKETCHY: Now who doesn’t overstand you besides Normal, who’s an idiot?

HERBAL: Many people. All right? Most people. My woman.

(Original Cindy laughs. Normal’s phone rings in the background.)

NORMAL (on phone): Jam Pony.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Don’t be losin’ your flavor, ’cause fools ain’t got ears to hear.

SKETCHY: It’s gonna be a sad day in Babylon when you start sounding like some haircut in a suit.

NORMAL: Just a sec. (To Original Cindy) How many times have I gotta tell you this is a place of business, not your answering service?

ORIGINAL CINDY: Does that mean I got a call?

NORMAL: Yes. Make it brief.

ORIGINAL CINDY (on phone): Yeah…That’s me.

NORMAL (handing Herbal a package): Hot run. 1298 Chapel.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Mmm-hmm…You serious?…’Course I’m still interested…Today? Sure…Yes. And thank you.

(She hangs up. Max enters with her bike.)

SKETCHY: In a dark world, that sounded like some good news.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Remember that whole Mr. Sivapathasundarum dealio when we thought we were gonna get fired?

SKETCHY: It’s our finest hour.

HERBAL: Yes.

ORIGINAL CINDY: I saw this “help wanted” ad. I filled out an application just in case. That was them. They want me to start this afternoon.

HERBAL: You got a job? A real job?

MAX: Do you get to keep your clothes on?

(They laugh.)

ORIGINAL CINDY: I’m gonna be doing telemarketing. Selling insurance.

MAX: For…?

ORIGINAL CINDY: Death and dismemberment.

SKETCHY: Well, hey. As long as there’s misery in the world, might as well be an upside for somebody, right?

ORIGINAL CINDY: Kinda how I saw it.

MAX: Way to go.

SKETCHY: Yeah, and when you get your foot in the door, maybe you could use your influence to get us out of this hellhole.

ORIGINAL CINDY: You have got Original Cindy’s word on that.

NORMAL: Let’s go! This is not a warehouse for human flesh! Let’s go! Get to work!

ORIGINAL CINDY (smiling): Normal!

(The others chuckle in anticipation.)

NORMAL: What?

ORIGINAL CINDY: There’s something I’ve been wantin’ to say to you ever since the day I first started working here. I quit.

HERBAL (giving her five): Oh yeah.

NORMAL: Is that right?

ORIGINAL CINDY: I thought it over, for a good twelve seconds, and decided it’s in my own and long-term best interest to get the hell up outta here.

NORMAL: Well, I am so pleased. One less disrespectful, uppity, loud-mouthed, deadbeat hooligan to ruin my day. The door’s that way. (Whistles her out and walks away) Let’s get back to work.

ORIGINAL CINDY: The things you learn to put up with when you have to. Later, my peeps. (Hugs the three of them) Gotta clean out my locker…bomb home…and dress for success.

MAX: See you at Crash tonight? You can tell us all about your first day. Bye, boo.

(In a run-down building, a man is seated at a wooden table with Reds Five and Seven standing behind him. He is about to become Red Eight.)

RED EIGHT: I’m ready.

JOHANNESSEN: You understand the risks involved?

RED EIGHT: I’ll take my chances.

(Johannessen opens a case and holds out the implant removed from Red Seven’s ashes.)

JOHANNESSEN: You know what to do.

(Red Eight takes the implant and pokes it into the back of his neck, drawing blood. The implant suddenly drives itself deep into his flesh, leaving only its top exposed, flush with his skin. Threads appear under the skin of his neck, like veins, and spread. Red Eight goes into convulsions and gurgles, his head nodding violently up and down. Eventually he stops convulsing. Blood begins to run from the corner of his right eye. He slams his fists into the table, splintering it.)

RED FIVE: You’re one of us now.

JOHANNESSEN: Our friends back home got the rest of the number off the girl’s pager. (Hands Red Five a slip of paper) Last call she got came from this address.

(Reds Five, Six, and Eight break into Original Cindy’s apartment. They trash it, looking for her, but she’s not there. A man hears the noise and pokes his head out of his apartment across the hall.)

MAN: Cindy?

(Red Six goes after him. The man goes back in his apartment and shuts the door, but Red Six kicks it in and drags him into Original Cindy’s place. Red Five shows him a picture of Original Cindy and Max that was hanging on the fridge.)

RED FIVE: The girl who lives here—where is she?

MAN: You just missed her.

RED FIVE: Know where she went?

(The man shakes his head and Red Five grabs him by the neck.)

RED FIVE: Tell me.

MAN: Said something about landing a new job. Washington Meridian Insurance, I think it was.

(Red Five snaps his neck and they leave.)

(At Washington Meridian Insurance, a woman named Tammy is showing Original Cindy to her desk.)

TAMMY: So, have you worked in insurance before?

ORIGINAL CINDY: Technically speaking, no. But remember back in school when you used to play the dozens?

TAMMY: I’m sorry?

ORIGINAL CINDY: You know—tradin’ insults. Like, “Your breath’s so bad, when people call you on the phone, they hang up.” I happen to be blessed with mad verbal skills. Kids used to pay me cash money to come up with dis they could use. So, in a way, I guess you could say I sold insurance against catastrophic tongue failure.

TAMMY: Mmm. Maybe you better familiarize yourself with this. (Hands her a sheet of paper) It’s our standard sales pitch. Our manager, Mr. Petrick, likes us to stick to the script.

ORIGINAL CINDY: No problem, shugga.

TAMMY: Here’s the schedule of benefits for our policy. It’s a good idea to memorize it so you can answer any questions customers might have.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Aiight.

TAMMY: Well, I have to run to the bank for Mr. Petrick. When I get back, we’ll set you up with some numbers so you can start cold-calling. Okay?

ORIGINAL CINDY: Okay.

TAMMY: Okay. (Leaves)

ORIGINAL CINDY (reading aloud): “Have you ever worried what might happen to you or your dependents if you were left unable to work due to a disfiguring accident? Well, worry no more.”

(In his apartment, Logan is sitting at his computer desk. His eyes are closed and he is rocking back and forth in his wheelchair, pushing and pulling on the desk. He stops, opens his eyes, and looks down. Logan pushes off the desk, rolling backwards about six feet. He locks the brakes and stares at his bare feet. His right foot jerks, and he smiles. He manually places first one foot on the floor, then the other. Logan leans forward--staring ahead and breathing slowly, like a runner poised to start a race--then pushes off to stand. It doesn’t work and he falls on the desk.)

LOGAN: Ungh—oof!

(He stares for a moment, catching his breath. Then he becomes frustrated and sweeps his arm across the desk, sending most of its contents crashing to the floor.)

LOGAN: No!

(Bling hears the crash and enters the room. He rushes over to Logan and pulls him back into the chair.)

BLING: Easy. Easy. Easy.

(He goes to take Logan’s feet off the floor, but Logan waves him off. Bling looks at him and leaves. Logan sits slumped, legs straight out in front of him.)

(Max wheels her bike into her apartment and calls to Kendra.)

MAX: Honey! I’m home!

MAN’S VOICE (offscreen): Oh, geez, gimme the handcuffs, quick! No, no, keep still! Let me do it!

(Max, hearing the voice, pushes aside the plastic that serves as Kendra’s bedroom door. Kendra and Walter the cop are standing there, Walter in his shorts and uniform top and Kendra in a negligee. Max shoves Walter against the wall.)

MAX: Let her go!

WALTER: Take it easy.

MAX: You think you’re gonna start shakin’ us down, Walter? Think again.

KENDRA: Max, Max, let him go. It’s not like that.

(Kendra moves Max aside and hands Walter his handcuffs.)

KENDRA: Walter, honey, why don’t you put on your pants?

WALTER: Okay.

(Kendra and Max step into the other room.)

MAX: Tell me this isn’t happening.

KENDRA (sheepishly): It’s happening, it’s been happening, and with any luck it’s gonna keep happening.

MAX: But this is the guy who used to shake us down once a month for six hundred bucks.

KENDRA: He’s changed! He’s a different man.

MAX: How?

KENDRA: A few weeks ago, we ran into each other at Dunkin’ Donuts. He apologized for the way that he used to take our money. We got to talking, and I started to see there was more to him than I’d ever realized. He’s…sweet, and kind, and funny--

MAX: --and married, as I recall.

KENDRA: Which is why I kept things strictly platonic, until his wife took off with some kid on a skateboard. Poor guy. Max, I am crazy about him.

MAX: But I thought things with this Mr. Multiples guy was getting really serious.

KENDRA: Max…Walter is Mr. Multiples.

(Walter emerges, dressed, and speaks into his radio.)

WALTER: Seventh floor is vacant and secure.

VOICE ON RADIO: Roger that.

WALTER (giving Kendra a kiss): See you later, cupcake. (To Max) Pearl of a girl, here. (Whistles as he leaves)

(At Washington Meridian Insurance, Original Cindy speaks to different people on the phone.)

ORIGINAL CINDY: May I please speak to Caroline Barrister?…Hi. I’m calling from Washington Meridian Insurance. Today we have a one-time offer…(Click and dial tone)

ORIGINAL CINDY: ...the security of knowing that you and your loved ones will be looked after in the event of a disfiguring accident…(Click and dial tone)

ORIGINAL CINDY: You are entitled to a $50,000 payout if you were to lose both eyes, both legs, and both arms, unless a functional prosthetic can be attached to any vestigial stump…(Click and dial tone)

ORIGINAL CINDY: ...$25,000 if you lose an eye and a leg, or both eyes and a hand. And if you sign up now, you can take advantage of this offer that won’t cost you an arm and a leg…A few questions? Sure. What do you want to know?…Excuse me?…How much if you lost your what?…What am I wearing? Freak! (Hangs up)

(That night, Original Cindy leaves work and walks to Crash. She is followed by the Reds.)

(In his apartment, Logan is staring out the window at the rain. The phone rings. He doesn’t move.)

LOGAN’S MACHINE: You’ve reached the number you’ve dialed.

(The machine beeps and we hear Max’s voice. Logan remains still through the entire call.)

MAX: Hey, Logan. Pick up the phone, it’s me…Just called to see how you’re doing. I’m headed over to Crash to meet some friends; thought maybe you might wanna come…But you’re out probably saving the world, or…maybe it’s your bowling night. (Chuckles) Anyway, hope you’re doing good. Call me.

(Dial tone)

(At Crash, Max and Original Cindy are playing foosball.)

ORIGINAL CINDY: So she’s hittin’ it with the po-po, and getting kinky with the handcuffs, huh?

MAX: Do you mind? I’m trying to purge that particular image from my memory.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Original Cindy can understand the power of a well-starched uniform. I once had me a girlfriend that was 100% U.S. Marine. Damn, she was fine in her dress blues. Teeennn-HUT!

MAX: He’s twice her age.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Original Cindy can understand the allure of maturity. I once had a girlfriend who had a daughter that was older than me. She was fine, too—which got kinda complicated, but we not gonna go into that.

MAX: Will you stop?!

ORIGINAL CINDY: All I’m sayin’ is, it takes all kinds to make a world. This cop moves Kendra’s furniture, who are we to judge?

MAX: It’s just everywhere I look, people keep changing on me. You know, Kendra’s knocking boots with a guy whose coffee I used to spit in. You’re making a getaway from Jam Pony hell, and Logan’s…I don’t know.

ORIGINAL CINDY: What? Your squeeze givin’ you a hard time, shugga?

MAX: No. It’s just his…possibilities are…expanding. And he’s not my squeeze.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Hm. Is he kickin’ it with someone else?

MAX: No. It’s all good. It’s just all…different.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Boo, you dwellin’ too much on things that ain’t party-related. (Max wins the foosball game) You know what you need?

MAX: A pitcher of beer.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Read my mind.

(They go and join Herbal and Sketchy at a table.)

SKETCHY: So how much you rake in today?

ORIGINAL CINDY: Nothing. As in zip, zero, nada.

HERBAL: You mean to say that you worked hard all day with no compensation whatsoever?

MAX: Are you okay?

ORIGINAL CINDY: Brotha man’s just havin’ an identity crisis. Anyway, the dealio with this job is it’s a commission-type situation. I followed the script they gave me straight up.

SKETCHY: And no sale?

ORIGINAL CINDY: Not even a nibble. I even code-switched. Pulled way back on the flavor.

MAX: See, that’s the problem. You’re not being yourself.

ORIGINAL CINDY: I don’t know, Boo. Sister girl want the scrilla, peeps gotta feel what she’s puttin’ down.

MAX: Next round’s on me.

(Max heads for the bar with the empty pitcher. On the way, she sees Red Five watching her. She runs out of the building, and Reds Five and Eight chase her. They all run down the street. Max leaps onto a passing truck. The two Reds fall behind. She watches them fade into the distance, but suddenly Red Six jumps from a fire escape onto the moving truck. They fight. At an intersection, the truck is about to collide with a bus. As both vehicles screech to a stop, Max kicks Red Six and he is impaled on a metal pole jutting from the truck. Max watches wide-eyed as he gasps and yanks the pole off the truck, with the pole still through his chest. He collapses, looking up at her.)

RED SIX: You.

MAX: But why? Why me?

RED SIX: Help us live. (Dies)

(The next day, Max, Logan, and Sebastian are sitting in front of a computer. Through a window, we see into a room where somebody is operating on Red Six’s body.)

SEBASTIAN (via voice synthesizer): Do you know why they are after you?

MAX: Road rage. I cut ’em off in traffic.

SEBASTIAN: Has to be because you’re a biosynth. My guess is Manticore. Judging from your age, an X5—one of the twelve that escaped.

MAX: How do you know so much about us?

SEBASTIAN: I have a lot of time on my hands to research all the good conspiracy theories.

MAX: How ’bout instead you clue me in on why these guys are seriously after my ass?

SEBASTIAN: They’ve been told by their handlers that your genetic code can prolong their lifespans. Rumor is, they’re looking to create a new generation of soldiers that can tolerate the implant longer. My guess is they want you so they can harvest your ova.

MAX: Like being a girl isn’t hard enough. They want me to be mommy to a whole army of these guys.

LOGAN: In a generation, they’d have themselves the perfect warrior.

SEBASTIAN: And wouldn’t have to recruit from their prison population.

MAX: The Reds are convicts?

SEBASTIAN: Fresh off death row.

LOGAN: A commuted sentence in exchange for becoming one of these soldiers.

MAX (going to the window and watching): More like a stay of execution until the implant kills ’em.

LOGAN: Now why don’t they remove it before they burn out?

SEBASTIAN: The implant rewires neural pathways.

LOGAN: So they can’t survive without the interface.

MAX: Bottom line—how do I fight these guys?

SEBASTIAN: Manticore genetics are impressive, but in direct combat, there is no warrior equal to the Red Series. Got it.

(The person in the next room has extracted the implant from Red Six’s neck. It looks like a spider with many legs spread out in a tangle. Immediately, the legs all spiral around a central thread, and the implant looks like a spike again. The person drops it into a beaker filled with liquid.)

(In the run-down building)

JOHANNESSEN (angry): You lost the implant?!

RED FIVE: We lost a man. A second man.

JOHANNESSEN: Do you have any idea how much that thing is worth?

RED FIVE: Did you hear me? A man died.

JOHANNESSEN: A lot more of you are gonna die, too, if you don’t get the girl.

RED FIVE: Even if we do, how do we know it’s not already too late for us?

JOHANNESSEN: Maybe you’d rather be back on death row. Let’s see, you’d be dead by lethal injection almost, ah, eight months now?

(Red Five punches him. The force of the impact sends Johannessen flying backward; he hits the wall and lands on the floor. Red Five stands over him.)

JOHANNESSEN: Why don’t you just go ahead and kill me? It’s something you enjoy. You’re really good at it. (Red Five stares at him) But you wouldn’t dare, ’cause that’d be suicide.

(He holds out his hand. Red Five reluctantly takes it and helps him up.)

JOHANNESSEN (to Red Eight): The one you followed, to lead us to the Manticore girl. Did she know you were on her tail?

RED EIGHT: No.

JOHANNESSEN: Good. Then she can still be useful.

(At Washington Meridian Insurance that evening, Original Cindy is alone in the building.)

ORIGINAL CINDY (on phone): Hello? Is this Mr. Rogelio Riquelme?…Have you ever worried what might happen to you or your dependents if you were left unable to work due to a disfiguring accident?…No no, don’t hang up…Do not hang up this phone.

(She sighs and stands up to talk.)

ORIGINAL CINDY: I know you a busy man, shugga. But let me keep it real for y’all. You lose an arm or a leg, and Washington Meridian Insurance gonna drop twenty large on whatever’s left of your ass. Which is better than nothin’, aiight?…Is that your seed I hear cryin’ his little head off?…What’s his name, boo?...(Smiles)...And what’s little Rogelio and the baby’s mama gonna do if you stone-cold dead? No daddy, no dolla dolla—unless you step to me and plan for that child’s future, ’cause Original Cindy’s got you covered all over like foundation makeup on a drag queen.

(Red Five, Red Eight, and Johannessen burst in the door.)

ORIGINAL CINDY: What can I do for you girls?

(Reds Five and Eight whip out big guns and point them at her. Her eyes widen.)

(At Logan’s apartment)

LOGAN: Here’s a question. How’d they know you were at Crash?

MAX: I don’t know.

LOGAN: That’s a problem.

(Max notices something on the floor. She picks up a piece of broken glass and looks at Logan questioningly.)

LOGAN: Little accident.

MAX: How you feeling?

LOGAN (testily): Okay.

MAX: Did the transfusion help? Any change?

LOGAN: If there was, don’t you think you’d be the first one to know?

(Max’s pager goes off.)

MAX: It’s Original Cindy. Can I use your phone?

LOGAN: Please do.

(Max dials. We see Original Cindy sitting at a desk at Washington Meridian Insurance. Johannessen is pointing a gun at her. The phone rings, and she uses the speakerphone to answer.)

ORIGINAL CINDY: Washington Meridian Insurance.

MAX: How goes it in the concrete jungle?

ORIGINAL CINDY: You know, you know…I speak my word and the peeps just give me all their money. (Johannessen pokes her with the gun) Listen, boo, there’s a new club opening tonight and I got some love with security. Why don’t you swing on by here and pick me up, and we’ll get our drink on?

MAX: Tonight’s no good.

(Johannessen pushes the gun into Original Cindy’s shoulder.)

ORIGINAL CINDY: But you gotta come meet my new hot boy, Carlito.

(Max turns away from Logan and frowns.)

MAX: Carlito?

ORIGINAL CINDY: He a fine-ass stud. And he got a brother, too. Wh-what do you say? You gonna come kick it?

MAX: Yeah. I can kick it. I’m on my way.

(Max hangs up. Johannessen lowers the gun.)

MAX (to Logan): Gotta jet. Original Cindy needs a ride home from work.

LOGAN: Be careful out there.

(Max goes to Sebastian’s and bursts in.)

SEBASTIAN: What are you doing here?

MAX: I have a date with a couple of Reds and I need to be all that I can be.

(She picks up the implant.)

SEBASTIAN: You don’t want to do that. It could kill you.

MAX: I don’t have a choice.

(Max inserts the implant into her neck and begins convulsing.)

(Later, after Max has left, Logan is at Sebastian’s.)

SEBASTIAN: It’s like turbocharging a turbocharged engine. If the Reds burn out in months, Max might only last a few hours.

LOGAN: How do we disable the damn thing?

SEBASTIAN: By short-circuiting it.

LOGAN: With what?

SEBASTIAN: My defibrillator should do the trick.

LOGAN: You want me to blow 5,000 volts into Max’s head?

SEBASTIAN: And the sooner the better.

(At Washington Meridian Insurance)

JOHANNESSEN: What the hell is taking so long? She should’ve been here by now.

ORIGINAL CINDY: I don’t know. A girl’s gotta look good.

JOHANNESSEN: You warned her somehow. Now she’s in the wind. (Raises the gun) And you’re dead.

(A window shatters and Max crashes in. She remains crouched on the floor for a moment as they all look at her. After a minute she raises her head to look at them, and we see dried blood under her eyes.)

MAX: How do I look in red?

(Reds Five and Eight approach her and she raises her fists.)

MAX: Bring it on!

(They jump and begin hitting her to the ground. Suddenly she stands up and hurls them off. Red Five flies through a window and Red Eight lands on a desk.)

MAX (to Original Cindy): Go!

(Original Cindy runs. Max jumps onto the desk and begins pummeling Red Eight. Logan wheels in at the other side of the room, unnoticed, and sees Max beating on the man. Red Eight knocks her off the desk and jumps off. He swings at her and misses.)

MAX: Is that all you got?

(Logan sees a switch on the wall about six feet up. Red Eight misses Max again. She kicks him, chops him, and throws him through a wall. Logan stretches for the switch and his wheelchair gets knocked over behind him. Red Eight steps back through the wall. Max, watching Red Eight, gets tackled by Red Five. She knocks him off, kicks him a couple times, and leaps to kick him with both feet. She sees a grenade on his belt. Red Eight attempts to kick her from behind. Max grabs his foot and flings him over her. He lands on top of Red Five, on the floor. She reaches for the grenade, pulls the pin, and jumps out of the way. It explodes. Max is thrown to the floor against a desk. An axe flies through the air and its handle lands on Red Five’s chest. Johannessen approaches Max, pointing a gun at her.)

JOHANNESSEN: I’ll be needing that implant back.

MAX (weakly): I thought I was worth more to you alive.

JOHANNESSEN: You were. But with the implant in, you’re dead anyway.

(Logan begins pulling himself up the wall, reaching for the switch.)

MAX: Don’t be so sure.

JOHANNESSEN: Manticore transgenics are good, but you’re not bulletproof.

MAX: Good thing your boys never found out the truth—that getting me was never about helping them. You just wanted me for breeding, didn’t you? No way I could’ve saved their lives.

JOHANNESSEN: There was never any hope for them either way. They heard what they wanted to hear.

MAX: They fought hard. They died for you.

JOHANNESSEN: They were criminals. Scum of the earth.

MAX: So, what, they were just expendable?

JOHANNESSEN: You gotta expect losses.

(Logan finally reaches the switch and pulls it. The lights go out.)

LOGAN: Max, move!

(Max rolls out of the way as Johannessen fires blindly toward her. Red Five staggers toward Johannessen with the axe.)

RED FIVE: Aaaagh!

(Johannessen fires toward Red Five’s voice and lands several shots. Red Five manages to kill Johannessen with the axe.)

JOHANNESSEN: Augh!

(They both collapse. Red Five lands in front of Max, who is lying on the floor. He lifts his head to look at her.)

RED FIVE: No…no regrets.

(He dies. Max passes out. Logan crawls over to her.)

LOGAN: Max.

(A bright light shines on them. Logan looks up to see Original Cindy with a flashlight.)

(Later, Sebastian is talking to Logan over the phone. Logan and Original Cindy are kneeling over Max, with the flashlight on the floor.)

SEBASTIAN: Is she conscious?

LOGAN: No.

SEBASTIAN: Check her eyes. Do you see blood?

(Logan lifts Max’s head. Her face is covered with blood from her eyes.)

LOGAN: Yeah.

(Max begins convulsing.)

ORIGINAL CINDY: Damn.

LOGAN: She’s seizing.

SEBASTIAN: There’s no time. If you don’t zap that implant, it’s going to burn out her nervous system.

LOGAN (to Original Cindy): Get the case from my wheelchair. Yellow plastic case. Get it.

(Original Cindy brings over the defibrillator.)

SEBASTIAN: Find the entry point at the base of her skull.

LOGAN: Okay, I see it.

SEBASTIAN: You need to make direct contact with the implant, so you’ll have to cut in.

LOGAN: Cut in? Are you kidding?

SEBASTIAN: Do it now.

(Logan hands Original Cindy his cell phone and uses a pocket knife to pierce Max’s skin near the implant.)

ORIGINAL CINDY (into phone): Yeah, I got it…The number on the indicator? (Looks at the defibrillator) It says 300.

LOGAN: Okay, I got the end of it.

ORIGINAL CINDY (into phone): He says he feels the end of it. (To Logan) We’re supposed to leave the knife in, use it as a conductor, and zap her with these paddles. One on the forehead and one on her neck. (Logan takes the cell phone back) This is whack.

(Original Cindy holds one paddle to Max’s neck, and Logan holds the other to her forehead.)

LOGAN: Okay. Do it!

ORIGINAL CINDY: Clear!

(They zap Max. Her body bounces once.)

SEBASTIAN: Logan, what’s going on? Is she okay?

LOGAN: Seizure’s stopped…She’s breathing normally.

(Original Cindy closes her eyes in relief. Sebastian smiles. Logan strokes Max’s head.)

(At Logan’s apartment the next morning, Original Cindy is in the kitchen, pouring coffee with shaking hands. Logan is watching Max sleep on the couch. Max wakes up and looks at him, her face clean.)

LOGAN: How’s the headache?

MAX: Not bad, considering the creepy metal insect stuck in there.

LOGAN: Shrapnel of past wars. Got some myself.

MAX: Where’s my girl?

LOGAN: In the kitchen. She’s okay.

MAX: Maybe I oughta turn myself in to Manticore before someone else gets hurt.

LOGAN: Yeah, right.

MAX: I’m trouble, Logan. I almost got my best friend killed.

LOGAN: So what are you gonna tell her?

MAX: The truth.

LOGAN: Is that wise?

MAX: Maybe not. But after today, I think she’s earned it.

(Later, Max and Original Cindy are in Logan’s kitchen.)

MAX: Say something.

ORIGINAL CINDY: What am I s’posed to say? My homegirl just tells me she’s not even human.

MAX: I’m mostly human. I thought about telling you a million times, but…I was afraid to.

ORIGINAL CINDY: What? You didn’t think you could trust me?

MAX: When you and me hooked up…it was like, all of a sudden, there was this part of my life where I didn’t have to be hiding, or…fighting…or anything else, except…trying to make a livin’ and kickin’ it with my homegirl. I never had that before—a friend. I was scared that if I told you what was up, it would all change…and that you would look at me like you are right now…like I was some kind of freak you didn’t even recognize.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Damn. All this time, I never knew.

MAX: Is this gonna change things?

ORIGINAL CINDY: No doubt. No doubt. There’s some issues here Original Cindy’s gotta think on.

(Tears begin to fall from Max’s eyes. Original Cindy puts down her coffee and hugs her, as tears fall from her own.)

ORIGINAL CINDY: You coulda died puttin’ that bitch in your head, but you did it anyway to get my back. You’re my boo...for life. No matter what.

(Max smiles with relief.)

ORIGINAL CINDY: Now let me see this barcode of yours.

(Max turns around. Original Cindy brushes her hair aside.)

ORIGINAL CINDY: Shugga, that’s kinda hot, aiight?

(They laugh.)

(At Jam Pony)

NORMAL (to Herbal): Hot run, 46 Euclid.

HERBAL: 46 Euclid’s been incarcerated. Solicitation of a minor.

NORMAL: Oh. Well, we’ll return that to sender.

(He throws the envelope onto a large pile of packages as Max walks in.)

NORMAL: Well, well, well. Someone who’s two hours late for work looks like they were a dirty little party girl last night. My God, girl, look at your eyes. Whaddaya been drinkin’, gasoline?

MAX: I had to have radical emergency amateur brain surgery to remove a nanochip from my cerebellum before I stroked out from a neurochemical overload. (Walks away)

NORMAL (calling after her): This is all one great big joke to you, isn’t it? You’re late one more time, missy, you’re gonna be fired. Get some eye drops.

(Original Cindy enters.)

ORIGINAL CINDY: How ’bout you leave her alone? Maybe she don’t feel so hot.

NORMAL: Well, ingesting petroleum products will do that to you every time. Excuse me, you’re trespassing on private property.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Hear me out before you call the police. I would like my old job back, if you’d have me.

(Sketchy and Herbal approach. Normal turns to them.)

NORMAL: “Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you got ’til it’s gone?” (To Original Cindy) What happened to greener pastures? Huh? What happened to the high horse you rode outta here on?

ORIGINAL CINDY: Maybe Original Cindy needed to learn a lesson.

NORMAL: Yeah, what, opportunities don’t grow on trees? Or maybe you’re not the supreme goddess of the universe you thought you were?

ORIGINAL CINDY: I had some soul-searchin’ to do, about a lotta things. Things I thought I already knew about. So, what? Do I have to get down on my knees and beg?

SKETCHY (to Herbal): I really hate to see anybody prostitute themselves like this.

NORMAL: There’s a lot to be said about the enemy you know.

ORIGINAL CINDY: I can understand if you’re not a fan. But if you give me another shot, I won’t let you down.

NORMAL: All right. But you’re on permanent probation, is that understood?

ORIGINAL CINDY (smiling): Original Cindy can live with that.

NORMAL: All right. (Walks away)

HERBAL: Come, come.

(Original Cindy goes over and hugs them.)

HERBAL (in thick accent): I and I be elated to have you back a yard, you know. Remember in your heart lie a power for come through any storm.

ORIGINAL CINDY: Boo, I didn’t understand a word you just said, and this is me.

SKETCHY: He’s happy to have you back.

HERBAL: Yes.

SKETCHY: And so am I, ’cause now I don’t gotta feel so inadequate about bein’ trapped in a place as lame as this.

(Nighttime, in Max’s apartment)

LOGAN: I got a surprise for you. Cover your eyes.

(Max rolls her eyes and covers them with her hands.)

MAX: Is it a new carburetor? It is, isn’t it?

LOGAN: No.

MAX: Mmm…flowers? Jewelry?

LOGAN: Since when do you wear jewelry?

MAX: I’m open to the idea.

LOGAN: It’s not jewelry. Don’t peek.

MAX: I’m not!

(Logan slowly stands up. Max drops her hands. Logan is not quite at his full height—his knees are bent a little—but he is standing taller than Max. They are very close and look into each other’s eyes.)

MAX: It’s like some kind of miracle.

LOGAN: You’re the miracle. You did this. You gave me back my life.

MAX: Thank the clever folks at Manticore…I’d forgotten how tall you were.

(They laugh. Logan’s knees buckle and he starts to fall. Max catches him and eases him down into his wheelchair. His eyes never leave her.)

MAX (smiling): There’s always tomorrow.

LOGAN (smiling): Yeah. Tomorrow.

MAX: You’re gonna have to take it slow.

LOGAN: I don’t wanna take it slow. I wanna go fast.

MAX: Oh, yeah?

LOGAN: Yeah.

MAX: Well, in that case…there’s something I’ve been wanting to do with you ever since we first met. Now I think you might be up for it.

(Logan and Max are riding her Ninja down the street. Logan is driving, wearing the helmet and grinning. Max is grinning too as she sits behind him with her bike glasses on.)

MAX: Shift! Shift!

(Logan’s foot pushes down on a pedal.)

LOGAN: Woo-hoo! Ha ha!

(They crest a hill and drop out of sight.)

MAX (voiceover): Yeah, there’s always tomorrow. There’s a lot of stuff Logan and I have never had to face before…and it’s feeling like tomorrow we might just have to. Funny what you can be scared of.