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Bringing Out the Dead (1999)

by Paul Schrader.
From the novel by Joseph Connelly.
First draft (11/7/97).

More info about this movie on IMDb.com


FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY



     After World War One it was called
     Shell Shock.

     After World War Two it was called
     Battle Fatigue.

     After Vietnam it was called
     Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

     Frank Pierce, 28, drives an EMS vehicle for
     Our Lady of Mercy Hospital, New York City.
     He has been a paramedic for five years.



EXT. NEW YORK STREETS--NIGHT

An EMS "bus" careens around a corner, tires squealing, lights
flashing, siren whoop-whooping, swooping through Stygian
canyons of New York.

FRANK PIERCE, 28, drives. He wears dark cargo pants, black
boots, a white shirt with the paramedic badge, "EMS" gold
logo on one collar, "OLM" on the other. "Our Lady of Mercy
Paramedic" is inscribed in white across the back of his
navy jacket. On his belt: two-way radio, leather gloves,
beeper, drug kit, multi-purpose tool kit, mini-flashlight,
collapsible baton.

LARRY, 35, overweight, his partner for the night, rides techie
(shotgun), both hands clutching the dash.

Frank scans the blurring cityscape for hidden danger. He is
a young man of slight frame and open face--his life, his
possible futures, still before him: behind those open eyes,
beneath those dark shadows: hollowness beckons.

Dispatcher's voice crackles through the cab static: "Ladder
4, respond to a 10-22, four flight residential, 417 East 32.
13 Boy, men's room Grand Central, man set his pants on fire.
Bad burns. 17 David, at 177 East 24, there's a
woman who says a roach crawled in her ear. Can't get it out,
says she's going into cardiac arrest ..."

Frank's detached voice speaks over the urban landscape:

		FRANK (V.O.)
          Thursday started out with a bang: a
          gunshot to the chest on a drug deal
          gone bad. Heat, humidity, moonlight--
          all the elements in place for a long
          weekend. I was good at my job: there
          were periods when my hands moved
          with a speed and skill beyond me and
          my mind worked with a cool authority
          I had never known. But in the last
          year I had started to lose that
          control. Things had turned bad. I
          hadn't saved anyone for months. I
          just needed a few slow nights, a
          week without tragedy followed by a
          couple of days off.

The radio continues: "Zebra, 13Z, 524 East 17--"

		LARRY
               (on radio)
          We're there.

The ambulance breaks to a halt in front of a row of vintage
walk-ups. Frank and Larry jump out: Frank lugs the EKG monitor
and airway bag, Larry the drug box, yellow oxygen
pack slung over his shoulder. Neighbors crowd around.

		OLD WOMAN
          Which apartment? Which apartment?

		FRANK
          Move back. Where's the stairs? 5A.

		OLD WOMAN
          Oh Jesus, it's Mr. Burke.

The front door opens, a young boy holding it.

Author's note: in emergency situations, either on the street
or in the hospital, it is assumed there is continual
background noise--voices, sirens, cries, questions, etc.

						CUT TO:

INT. TENEMENT STAIRWELL--NIGHT

Four flights up: Frank and Larry climbing rotting steps,
gray-yellow painted walls, red doors with three locks each,
Larry, out of breath, his stomach rolling around like a
bowling ball in a bag.
				    
						CUT TO:

INT. BURKE APARTMENT--NIGHT

They enter 5A. MRS. BURKE, 55, her eyes run dry, standing in
the center of the room, surrounded by neighbors. Someone
leads them to the BEDROOM where Mr. Burke, 60, lies unmoving,
stretched on the bed. A young woman, MARY BURKE, 24, kneels
over the old man, pressing her lips to his flaccid mouth.

JOHN BURKE, 30, grabs Franks arm:

		JOHN
          We were just watching TV and Dad
          yelled out and started punching his
          chest, next thing he locked himself
          in the bathroom. I said we were gonna
          call you guys and he said not to.
          He was crying, I never heard him
          crying before, then he sorta stopped.
          We pulled him out and put him on the
          bed.

Frank and Larry moving the body to the floor:

		FRANK
          How long ago did he stop breathing?

		JOHN
          Maybe ten minutes. Woman on the phone
          tried to tell us how to do CPR.
          Please, you gotta do something.

		FRANK
          We'll do all we can.

Larry ripping open Mr. Burke's shirt, prepping electrode
patches, hooking wires, Frank opening Burke's mouth, feeling
a puff of gas escape; Larry calling for backup. Burke's EKG
rhythm on the monitor a flat green line.

Frank's training takes over: he injects the long steel
laryngoscope down Burke's throat, he finds a vein, injects
epinephrine, followed by atrophine, followed by another epi:
no response on the monitor. Larry pulls out the paddles:

		FRANK (CONT'D)
          Clear! Clear!

Larry activates defibrillator, shock--Burke's body heaves.
Sweat drips from Larry's nose onto Burke's chest.

		MARY
          No more, please don't!

They shock him again. This time the body moves less. Frank
glances up: Mr. and Mrs. Burke's wedding photo sits on the
nightstand. Other pictures: a day at the beach, a young
serviceman, happy parents. Frank's mind drifts:

		FRANK (V.O.)
          In the last year I had come to believe
	in such things as spirits leaving
	the body and not wanting to be put
	back, spirits angry at the awkward
	places death had left them.  I
	understood how crazy it was to think
	this way, but I was convinced if I
	turned around, I'd see Old Man Burke
	standing at the window, watching,
	waiting for us to finish.

Frank feels Burke's heart beneath cracked ribs. The EEG
remains flat. He's dead. It's time to quit.

		FRANK (CONT'D)
		(to Larry)
	I'll take over. Call ER and ask for
	an eighty-three.
		(to Mrs. Burke)
	Sorry.

Larry stands, breathing heavy, looks for a phone. Frank turns
to notice relatives and neighbors standing around.

		FRANK (CONT'D)
	Do you have any music?

		MARY
	What?

		FRANK
	Music. I think it helps if you play
	something he liked.

		MARY
	John, play the Sinatra.

John enters crying. Mary repeats softly:

		MARY
	Play the Sinatra.

John exits. Frank notices Mary for the first time: blond
hair dyed black, cut short, loose fitting tank dress, black
makeup running down her cheeks. He notices her prom picture,
glances back to Mary: it seems she hasn't smiled since that
day eight years before. Something special about her, that
something that hits you right away.

"September of My Years" plays from the other room. Frank
continues massaging Mr. Burke's chest (now to Sinatra beat),
even though it's hopeless. Larry returns:

		LARRY
	It's OK, Frank. We can call it. Eighty-
	three.

Frank feels something strange, looks into Burke's pupils,
checks his neck pulse, wrist pulse. His eyes go to Larry:

		FRANK
	No we can't. He's got a pulse.

		LARRY
	No shit.

Larry checks the monitor: the green line up and down. Mary
senses a change in status:

		MARY
          Is he going to be alright?

		FRANK
		(not encouraging)
	His heart's beating.

A distant siren signals the arrival of backup. Frank turns
to Larry:

		FRANK (CONT'D)
	Have 'em bring up a stretcher.

He looks from Mary back to Mr. Burke--breathing but comatose.

		   			   CUT TO:

INT. AMBULANCE--NIGHT

Larry climbing through the back doors, sitting in the jumpseat
at the stretcher's head as Frank hangs IV bags, replugs EKG
wires that have come loose.

Frank looks up, sees Mary entering; he takes her arm, turns
her toward the rear doors:

		FRANK
	Help your family. Ride with your
	mother and brother.
		(she hesitates)
	Help your family. They need you more.  
	Help yourself.

Mary steps out, stands in the red flashing light as Larry
closes the door, Frank climbs in the driver's seat.

 				        CUT TO:

EXT. SECOND AVENUE--NIGHT

The EMS bus cruises up Second. Frank checks the side mirror:
John, Mary and Mrs. Burke pull behind in a black Ford. Seeing
their faces, Frank flips the lights and siren on. It's too
late to help Mr. Burke, but it's important to the family
that it look urgent. Frank watches passing lights, cars,
faces:

		FRANK (V.O.)
	I needed to concentrate because my
	mind tended to wander on these short
	trips. It was the neighborhood I
	grew up in and where I had worked
	most as a paramedic, and it held
	more ghosts per square foot than any
	other.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. OUR LADY OF MERCY--NIGHT

Larry and Frank's 13 Zebra ambulance lined up beside two
others outside a blazing "Emergency" sign on the crowded
side street.

 					     CUT TO:

INT. MERCY ER--NIGHT

Every large city has a hospital Emergency Room so replete
with trauma, violence and suffering it picks up the sobriquet
"Knife and Gun Club." On Manhattan's Lower East Side it's
our Lady Of Mercy, aka, Our Lady of Misery.

ER: a white-lit cement box painted yellow and decorated with
old framed Playbills. Four rows of six plastic chairs face a
TV bolted and chained to the ceiling. The seats are filled
with backed-up drunks, assault victims and "regulars,"
bleeding and spilling over against the walls and the floor,
getting up to ask their status or going out to throw up and
have a smoke.

Larry and Frank wheeling Burke in, two IV lines, each
connected to an elbow, tangled in EKG cables. Two LACERATED
RUSSIANS scramble out of their way as they approach GRISS,
the large black sunglassed security guard. He looks up from
his television guide:

		GRISS
          Hey partner. Your man does not look
          well. They're not gonna appreciate
          you inside.

		FRANK
		(pumping Ambu-bag)
	Griss, let us in.

		GRISS
	Things are backing up.

Griss pushes a button, activating the automatic door, striking
the bandaged leg of a man lying down on a stretcher in the
hall. Larry and Frank wheel Burke inside. A pleading family
tries to follow. Griss stretches out his hand:

		GRISS (CONT'D)
	You can't go in there, folks.

Mary, John and Mrs. Burke rush in from the street, hoping
some miracle has occurred during the drive to the hospital,
approach the sign-in desk.

Frank and Larry pass four stretchers lined against the wall--
a passage nicknamed "Skid Row" leading past triage NURSE
CONSTANCE's station.

		NURSE CONSTANCE
	Just keep moving. Don't even slow
	down.

Nurse Constance turns back to the nervous man seated beside
her:

		NURSE CONSTANCE (CONT'D)
	Sir, you say you've been snorting
	cocaine for three days and now you
	feel your heart is beating too fast
	and you would like us to help you.
	To tell the truth, I don't see why I
	should. If I'm mistaken, correct me.
	Did we sell you the cocaine? Did we
	push it up your nose?

Larry and Frank slow at the last Skid Row stretchers. On
one, NOEL, a young dark-skinned man with chaotic mess of
dreadlocks, pulls feverishly at his restraints:

		NOEL
	For God's sake, give me some water.

From the next stretcher a man with feet swollen purple like
prize eggplants replies:

		BIG FEET
	Shut up! Goddamn civilians.

		NOEL
	Give me some water!

NURSE CRUPP stops Frank and Larry as they approach the
Critical care room. inside, the staff appears as if under
siege by a battalion of shriveled men and women lying on a
field of white sheets.

		NURSE CRUPP
	Don't take another step. We're on
	diversion. Can't accept any more
	patients. Your dispatcher should
	have told you.

 	 	FRANK
	We got him at Eighteen and Second.
	You're closest.

		NURSE CRUPP
	Where will I put him, Frank? Look.
	Tell me.

 	 	FRANK
	He wanted to come here. Said the
	nurses at Misery were the best.

		NURSE CRUPP
		(acquiesces)
	All right, give me a minute. I'll
	kick someone out of slot three.

Larry unravels himself from the IV lines as nurse walks over,
takes Burke's pulse.

		NOEL
		(to Frank)
	Excuse me. You are a very kind man.
	I can see that. A man like you could
	not refuse a poor sick dying helpless
	man a small cup of water.

		FRANK
	I can't. I have to stay with my
	patient.

		BIG FEET
	Shut the fuck up! If it wasn't for
	these dun feet I'd get up and kick
	your ass!

DR. HAZMAT, 30, steps over.

 		      HAZMAT
	Godammit, guys, what are you doing
	to me? We're all backed up in here.
          Christ, would you look at him? He's
	gonna need the works. What's wrong
	with him?

		LARRY
	You should know. You pronounced him.

		HAZMAT
	You told me he was dead. Flatline.

		FRANK
	He got better.

		HAZMAT
	I hate pronouncing people dead over
	the phone.
		(flashes light in
		Burke's eyes)
	Better, huh? They're fixed and
	dilated. He's plant food.

		NURSE CRUPP
		(returning)
	We stole a stretcher from X-ray. No
	pad on it, but I don't think he'll
	mind. Put him in three, next to the
	overdose.

		HAZMAT
	He's our lowest priority now. He
	shouldn't even be here. All this
	technology. What a waste.

Back at SECURITY, the Burkes confront Griss.

		GRISS
	Please folks, step back.
		(they hesitate)
	Don't make me take off my sunglasses.

In CRITICAL CARE, Larry wheels Burke into unit three as Dr.
Hazmat turns Frank to face the room, explaining:

		HAZMAT
	First-time heart attack, age 45.
	Should have gone to the CCU ten hours
	ago. There's three bodies up there
	Mike the one you just brought in.
	over there, two AIDS patients, one
	in twelve filling up with liquid.
	I'm gonna hafta intubate because the
	kid's mother won't sign the Do Not
	Resuscitate. Mercy killing doesn't
	translate well in Spanish. It's a
	sin to tube this kid. Three more ODs
	from some new killer junk. They call
	it Red Death.

Hazmat pulls out a vial marked with a red skull and
crossbones, shows it to Frank.

		NOEL
	Water, water, water, doctor man,
	water.

		HAZMAT
	A mix of heroin and I don't know
	what else, some kind of amino acid
	maybe. Stuff so strong they're
	drinking it with grain alcohol. You
	have to use ten times the usual amount
	of Narcan and watch out when they
	wake up, liable to go nuts on you.

		FRANK
		(about Noel)
          He one of them?

		HAZMAT
	No, that's Noel. Used to be a regular
	off and on, hasn't been in in a while.
	He seized and almost coded--I gave
	him a hypertonic solution. He drank
	so much the kidneys were taking out
	salt. One for the textbooks.

		NOEL
	Oh doctor, you are the greatest. You
	must help me.

		BIG FEET
	For God's sake, give him a drink of
	water.

		HAZMAT
	I am helping you, Noel. You could
	die if you drink more water.

Nurse Crupp pulls on Hazmat's arm.

		HAZMAT (CONT'D)
	What is it?

She points to Burke. His monitor is ringing like a fire alarm.
Hazmat and Crupp rush over, wave to others:

		HAZMAT (CONT'D)
	Crupp, start CPR. Milagros, get me
	an epi. Odette wake up Dr. Stark.
	Tell him I need a blood gas, stat.

As the staff crowds around Burke, pulling the paddles from
off the monitor, Frank, pushing his stretcher away, notices
Big Feet climb onto his infected feet, hobble over, work to
untie Noel.

		NOEL
	Bless you sir, bless you.

		BIG FEET
	Shut up.

Frank heads down Skid Row pushing the stretcher, passing
Nurse Constance speaking with a man with a gash over his
eye:

		NURSE CONSTANCE
	... so you get drunk every day and
	you fall down. Tell me why we should
	help you when you're going to get
	drunk tomorrow and fall down again?

Frank pushes the automatic door button--and is suddenly hit
from behind by Noel. The stretcher spins sideways. Noel
dives out the doors for the water fountain, snorting up water
like a bull. Mary Burke, standing with her family, looks at
Frank.

		FRANK
		(stock reply)
	He's very very sick.

		MARY
	I know him. That's Noel.

		FRANK
	We'd better go outside. Quickly.

Frank and Mary step out into the humid night.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. MERCY EMERGENCY--NIGHT

Checking behind then, Frank stops. Mary pauses before she
speaks:

		MARY
	Is there any chance?

		FRANK
		(shakes head)
	I guess there's always a chance.

The doors break open. Noel comes flying out, bounces on the
sidewalk. Griss, in the doorway, closes the doors.

Mary goes over to Noel:

		MARY
	Noel, Noel, it's me, Mary. From 17th
	Street.

		NOEL
	Mary, Mary, Mary. I'm so thirsty.
	They won't give me anything to drink.
	Please, Mary.

		MARY
		(heading inside)
	I'll get you some.

Frank watches: Mary returns with a cup of water, gives it to
a grateful Noel.

		FRANK
	I wouldn't do that.
		(Noel drinks)
	The doctor seems to think he's
	suffering from some rare disorder.

		MARY
	It's not so rare. He grew up on our
	street. He's had a rough life and
	he's a little crazy from it, but
	that's no excuse for not giving
	someone a lousy cup of water.

Mary starts to cry. Frank fumbles in his pocket, finds a
tissue, gives it to her.

		MARY (CONT'D)
	My father's dying, Noel.

		NOEL
	Oh Mary, Mary, Mary.

Noel hugs her clumsily, his shoulders bobbing. Frank watches,
realizing this is what he should have done for her.

						CUT TO:

EXT. EAST SIDE STREETS--NIGHT

13 Zebra cruising down Avenue C, Frank at the wheel, Larry
shotgun.

		LARRY
          The Chinese close in five minutes.
          Beef lo mein. It's  been on my
          mind since I woke. Whatjathink?

		FRANK
	I think the moment that food hits
	your mouth we'll get a job.

		LARRY
	Turn here. You missed it. The Chink
	is on 3rd.

Franks turns, gets jammed up behind a pimp car at Second and
Avenue B, a corner populated by pushers and hookers. TWO
WHORES stand in front of an abandoned building. Frank turns
to look.

		WHORE #1
 	Hey ambulance man. What you looking
	 at?

The second whore, wearing a yellow vinyl coat, turns. She
has a face that instantly freezes Frank: the Rose face.
Pregnant, she gestures to her belly:

		WHORE #2
	Pretty soon you'll be coming for me.

		LARRY
	Some partner you are Frank. I coulda
	walked there faster. I'm starving
	and you stop to talk to hookers.
	You're making me nuts. Is that what
	you're trying to do, drag me down
	with you to nutsville?

Frank hits the whoop-whoop siren. The pimps in the black BMW
jump, look back, realize its only an ambulance, and pull
away.

		LARRY (CONT'D)
		(slams dashboard)
	Oh no!--I just remembered.

		FRANK
	What?

		LARRY
	I'm so stupid. I had beef lo mein
	last night. I can't eat the same
	thing two nights in a row. It's almost
	two o'clock, what the hell am I gonna
	do? What you getting?

		FRANK
	I'm not hungry.

		LARRY
	Oh yeah, you don't eat food.

		FRANK
	I eat. I just haven't had coffee
	yet.

		LARRY
          Coffee and whiskey, lucky you ain't
	dead with that diet. Wait, I've got
	it. Half fried chicken with fries.
	Let's go, hurry up. Come on.

Frank speeds up Avenue B. Noel, wearing generic homeless
combat fatigues, muttering to his friends in Hell, passes on
the sidewalk. Frank notices another hooker, catches her face:
the same face as the pregnant Whore #2. The Rose face. His
mind drifts:

		FRANK (V.O.)
	Rose was getting closer. Ever since
	the call a month before, when I'd
	lost her, she seemed like all the
	girls in the neighborhood. One of
	the first things you learn is to
	avoid bad memories. I used to be an
	expert, but lately I'd found some
	holes. Anything could trigger it.
	The last month belonged to Rose, but
	there were a hundred more ready to
	come out.

		  			    CUT TO:

EXT. CHICKEN TAKE-OUT--NIGHT

The EMS vehicle is stopped at a fast food joint. Larry orders,
waits.

		FRANK (V.O.)
	These spirits were part of the job.
	It was impossible to pass a building
	that didn't bold the spirit of
	something: the eyes of a corpse, the
	screams of a loved one. All bodies
	leave their mark. You cannot be near
	the new dead without feeling it.

Larry gets his chicken, chats with counter clerk, returns.

      		 FRANK (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	I could handle that. What haunted me
	now was more savage: spirits born
	half-finished, homicides, suicides,
	overdoses, innocent or not, accusing
	me of being there, witnessing a
	humiliation which they could never
	forgive.

Larry climbs in, sets his take-out on the dash, hands Frank
a coffee. A police walkie-talkie is in the front tray.

		LARRY
	Turn it off.

		FRANK
	What?

		LARRY
	You know what. The radio.

		POLICE DISPATCH
	Ladder Four, respond to a 10-22 four
	flight residential, 317 East 32nd.

		LARRY
	Let's do it. It might be a good one.

		FRANK
	You wanted it turned off. There's no
	such thing as a good fire. People
	get burned up. They can't breathe.

		LARRY
	That's what we're here for. Come on,
	Frank.

		FRANK
	Don't push it, Larry.

		       LARRY
	You're burned out.

		RADIO DISPATCHER
	One-three Zebra. Zebra three, I need
	you.

 	 	LARRY
          You see, he's giving it to us anyway.

  		RADIO DISPATCHER
	Zebra, are you there? I'm holding an
	unconscious at First and St. Marks.

 		 LARRY
		(screams)
	No! It's three o'clock. That can
	only mean one thing.

		FRANK
	Mr. Oh.

           	 LARRY
	It's Mr. Oh. I'm not answering it.

 	 	RADIO DISPATCHER
	Answer the radio Zebra. You know
	it's that time.

		LARRY
	Four times this week I've had him.
	Aren't there any other units out
	there?  Don't answer the radio.
	They'll give it to someone else.

		RADIO DISPATCHER
	Thirteen Zebra. One-Three Zebra.
	You're going out of service in two
	seconds.

Pause. Neither moves.

		LARRY
	Look, Frank, when I say don't answer
	it, that means answer it.
		(picks up the mike)
	You can do that for me at least.
 	    (keys mike)
	Three Zebra.

		RADIO DISPATCHER
	Yes, Zebra. You'll be driving to the
	man who needs no introduction, chronic
	caller of the year three straight
	and shooting for number four. The
	duke of drunk, the king of stink,
	our most frequent flier, Mr. Oh.

		LARRY
	Ten-four.
		(Frank starts the
		engine)
	Don't go. Not this time.

 		      FRANK
		(driving off)
	Relax, it's a street job, easy except
	for the smell. We'll just throw him
	in back and zip over to Mercy--no
	blood, no dying, that's how I look
	at it. He's just a drunk.

		LARRY
	It's not our job to taxi drunks
	around.

		FRANK
	They'll just keep calling.

 	 	LARRY
	Someone's gonna die someday causa
	that bum, going to have a cardiac
	and the only medics will be taking
	care of Mr. Oh.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. FIRST & ST. MARKS--NIGHT

Frank and Larry standing over Mr. Oh, 40, surrounded by street
people. Oh lays curled up beside his wheelchair, wearing a
black garbage bag with holes cut out for his arms, his pants
around his knees.

		MALE STREET PERSON #1
	He's bad mister. He ain't eaten nuthin
	all day, he's seizing and throwing
	up.

		LARRY
		(hand over nose)
	So what's different?

		MALE STREET PERSON #1
	He says his feet hurt.

 		      FRANK
	Well why didn't you say so?

		LARRY
	He's drunk.

		MALE STREET PERSON #2
	He's sick. You gotta help him.

		LARRY
	He's fine. He can walk to the
	hospital.

		FEMALE STREET PERSON
	Walk? You crazy? He's in a wheelchair.

		LARRY
	Don't start that. I've seen him walk.
	He walks better than me.

Frank crouches over Oh, tries to pull Oh's pants over his
white, dirt-stained ass. Oh moans:

		MR. OH
	Oh, oh, oh.

		LARRY
	That's him, Mr. Oh.
		(pulls at his arm)
	Get up.

Larry and Frank get Oh to his feet only to have him stumble
over his lowered trousers. This time Frank lifts him, sets
his white ass cheeks into the wheelchair. They push him toward
the ambulance.

		CROWD
          Good luck! Get better!

				         CUT TO:

EXT. FIRST AVE--NIGHT

13 Zebra heads up First, double Caduceus symbols shining
from the back of the van.

Inside the cab, Larry and Frank lean out the front windows
to avoid the king of stink:

		LARRY
	Faster! God!

		FRANK
		(flips on top lights)
	Faster!

        				 CUT TO:

INT. MERCY ER--NIGHT

Griss holding up his hand:

		GRISS
          Get that stinky-assed motherfucking
          bug-ridden skell out of my face.

Frank and Larry stand beside Oh slumped in his wheelchair.
Fellow drunks welcome their comrade from plastic chairs.
Nurse Constance escorts a young man from the triage area:

		NURSE CONSTANCE
	I would have to register you to give
	you something to eat and my conscience
	just will not allow that. Griss,
	the gentleman wants to leave.
		(looks at Oh)
	He looks pale. You're not eating
	enough. You need more fiber.

Griss shows young man the door.

		LARRY
		(holds up his report)
	He's wasted. That's my diagnosis:
	shit-faced.

		NURSE CONSTANCE
	He just needs a bath and some food.
	Take him in back and see if you can
	find a stretcher.

		LARRY
 	    (to Frank)
	She's nuts. That's why he comes here.
	She encourages him.

Griss returns as Crupp calls from critical care area:

		NURSE CRUPP
	Don't you dare! That's my last
	stretcher. This is not a homeless
	shelter. He'll have to wait in the
	lobby.

		GRISS
	No way man. Not even in the corner.
	Griss cannot abide the funk tonight.

Larry and Frank turn, secretly pleased, and wheel Mr. Oh
outside.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. MERCY EMERGENCY--NIGHT

Larry setting Oh outside the entrance, heading towards the
all night deli. Frank takes out a cigarette.

Mary Burke walks up the drive opening a pack of cigs. Frank
offers her a light. She inhales, exhales:

		MARY
	It's my first cigarette in over a
	year.

		FRANK
	The first is always the best.

		MARY
	It's the waiting that's killing me,
	not knowing, you know? It's really
	hard on my mother. The doctor doesn't
	think my father'll make it. He says
	he was dead too long, after six
	minutes the brain starts to die and
	once that goes, close the door.

		FRANK
	You never know.

 		 MARY
	I mean if he was dead, I could handle
	that.

		FRANK
	At least he's got people around him.

		MARY
	I'm not so sure. My father and I
	haven't spoken in three years. When
	my brother called to say my father
	was having a heart attack, that he'd
	locked himself in the bathroom, all
	the way going over I was thinking
	how I was gonna tell him what a
	bastard he was. Then when I got up
	the stairs and we moved him onto the
	bed, I thought of all these other
	things I wanted to say.

		FRANK
	Even when you say the things, there's
	always more things.

  		MARY
	Right now, I'm more worried about my
	mother than anything. They won't let
	her see my father.

		FRANK
	Go home. Take her home. Get some
	rest. Not going to find anything out
	now.

		MARY
	That's what I told her. If she could
	just see him a second, then I could
	take her home.

Larry walks back with a coffee for himself and a brown bag
beer for Frank.

		LARRY
	Time to switch. I wheel, you heal.

						CUT TO:

EXT. LOWER EAST SIDE--NIGHT

4:00am.  The EMS vehicle drives downtown. The city has
transformed: a deserted city, inhabited by the hardcore:
hardcore night-shift employees, hardcore party-goers, hardcore 
druggies, hardcore homeless, people with something special
to do or nowhere to go.

		RADIO DISPATCHER
          12 David on the corner of Thirty-
	eight and Two you'll find a three-
	car accident, two taxis and a taxi.
	One-two Henry, 427 East Two-two,
	report of a very bad smell. No further
	information ...

Larry driving at a good clip, riding both the gas and the
break pedals, enjoying the newfound freedom of movement.

		FRANK
	Larry, swing over on Eighth. We're
	gonna hafta run one of these calls.

		LARRY
	Relax, will you.

Frank places both hands on the dash as Larry squeals around
a corner.

		FRANK (V.O.)
	The biggest problem with not driving
	is that whenever there's a patient
	in back you're also in the back. 
	The doors close, you're trapped.
	Four in the morning is always the
	worst time for me, just before dawn,
	just when you've been lulled into
	thinking it might be safe to close
	your eyes for one minute. That's
	when I first found Rose ...

Larry slows down on a side street. Frank turns to watch a
homeless man. The man looks back: it's Rose. The Rose face.

		FRANK (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	She was on the sidewalk, not
	breathing.

Frank turns to Larry:

		FRANK (CONT'D)
	I'm not feeling very well, Larry. I
	say we go back to the hospital and
	call it a night.

		LARRY
	You have no sick time, Frank. No
	time of any kind. Everyone knows
	that.

		FRANK
	Take me back, put me to bed; I
	surrender. We've done enough damage
	tonight.

		LARRY
	You take things too seriously. Look
	at us, we're cruising around, talking,
	taking some quiet time, getting paid
	for it. We've got a good job here.

		FRANK
	Yeah, you're right.

Larry pulls into the Jacob Riis projects by the river, slows
to a stop.  Larry cuts the lights, not bothering to inform
his partner what his partner already knows: they're taking
a rest.

		 				CUT TO:

EXT. RIIS PROJECTS--NIGHT

13 Zebra sits in the quiet dark. Larry puffs a cigarette.

		FRANK
          Tell me, you ever think of doing
          anything else?

       		LARRY
	Sure, I'm taking the captain's exam
	next year. After the kids are in
	school, Louise can go back to the
	post office and, I thought, what the
	hell, I'll start my own medic service.
	Out on the Island the volunteers are
	becoming salaried municipal. It's
	just a matter of time and who you
	know. Someday it's going to be Chief
	Larry calling the shots.

Larry tosses the cigarette out the window, leans against the
door jab, closes his eyes. In a second he's asleep.

Frank turns down the radio volume: the calls are fewer and
further between now. Frank leans back, tries to rest:

		FRANK (V.O.)
	I'd always had nightmares, but now
	the ghosts didn't wait for me to
	sleep. I drank every day. Help others
	and you help yourself, that was my
	motto, but I hadn't saved anyone in
	months. It seemed all my patients
	were dying. I'd waited, sure the
	sickness would break, tomorrow night,
	the next call, the feeling would
	drop away. More than anything else I
	wanted to sleep like that, close my
	eyes and drift away ...

TIMECUT: radio wakes Frank from his reverie.

		RADIO DISPATCHER
	Zebra. One-three Zebra.
 	    (Frank opens eyes)
	Zebra, answer the radio. Come on,
	I've got one for you. Pick up the
	radio and push the button on the
	side and speak into the front.

		FRANK
		(answering call)
	Zebra.  

		RADIO DISPATCHER
	Male bleeding, corner of Houston and
	One. No further information.

		FRANK
	Ten-four.

Frank hangs up, bangs Larry's steering wheel:

		FRANK (CONT'D)
	We have a call Chief. Somebody's
	bleeding, Houston and First.

Larry instinctively reaches for the ignition key, starts the
engine, drops the ambulance into gear, hits lights, jerks
the EMS bus away, still half asleep.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. HOUSTON & FIRST--NIGHT

13 Zebra coming to a bone jarring stop at the corner. Getting
out of the techie seat, Frank sees Noel, his face bloody,
charging at him.

		NOEL
	Kill me!

Noel has sliced up a tire and fastened the pieces with string
over his shoulders. Tin cans circle his wrists and ankles. 
One hand carries a broken bottle, the other a stringless
violin.

Frank jumps back inside as Noel rams the window, leaving
stains from his blood-matted dreadlocks. Larry calls for
backup: medics, police, firemen, anybody.

The side window glass bends as Noel rams his head against
it. Frank reaches for the short club between the seats; Noel
holds the jagged bottle to his neck.

		FRANK
	Noel, don't!

Noel drops the bottle. Frank rolls down the window.

		LARRY
	He's crazy.

		FRANK
	You really think so?

		NOEL
	See, I can't do it. I came out of
	the desert.

		FRANK
	You came out of the hospital. You
	were tied down and hallucinating.
	You got some bad chemicals in your
	head, Noel. There's some medicine at
	the hospital that will fix that.

 	 	NOEL
	No, no medicine!

Noel swings his bloody dreadlocks: Frank ducking, getting
splattered anyway, rolling up the window.

		LARRY
	He got you.

A BLACK PUNK calls from the crowd:

		BLACK PUNK
	Do it! Man wants to die. Take him
          out! I know how to kill that mother.
 	    (points a finger)
	Pop, pop.

Noel, spraying blood, chases the Punk. The crowd scatters.
Noel trips, falls to the sidewalk. Frank, carrying the short
bat, gets out, walks over, hunches beside Noel:

		FRANK
	Noel, you didn't let me finish. We
	have rules against killing people on
	the street. Looks bad, but there's a
	special room at the hospital for
	terminating. A nice quiet room with
	a big bed.

		NOEL
	Oh man, do you mean that?
		(smiles)
	Thank you man, thank you. How?

		FRANK
	Well, you have your choice: pills,
	injection, gas.

A siren draws closer, Noel gets to his feet as Larry opens
the rear doors.

		NOEL
	I think pills. Yes, pills, definitely.

A second ambulance skids to a stop. TOM WALLS, 35, a 220
pound bald-headed bruiser, gets out.

		LARRY
          Jesus, Tom Walls, that crazy
          motherfucker.

		FRANK
	Used to be my partner.

		WALLS
	Frank, this the guy you called about?
	I know him.
               (pushes Noel)
	You give my friend here any trouble
	and I'll kill you.

		NOEL
	Yes, at the hospital.

		WALLS
	This looks like a very bad man I
	took in a couple weeks ago, a man
	who'd been holding two priests hostage
	with a screwdriver. I told him if I
	ever caught him making trouble again
	I'd kick the murdering life outta
	him.

		FRANK
	It's not worth it, Tom. He's
	surrendering.

		WALLS
	No prisoners. Don't worry, Frank,
	just a little psychological first
	aid.

Walls hauls back, swings at Noel; Noel ducks.

		WALLS (CONT'D)
	Stay still, dammit!

Walls throws Noel against the bus, knocks him down, sets to
kicking him.

       		FRANK
	Don't do it, Tom!

Noel moans. Larry sticks his head out the back of the bus:

		LARRY
	There's a double shooting three blocks-
	up. First and Third. confirmed.

		WALLS
               (looking up)
	We'll do it.

Walls releasing Noel as Noel scrambles into the bus, Frank
stepping over him, Larry climbing into the driver's seat,
Frank closing the doors. Noel trembles:

		NOEL
	At the hospital. You told me at the
	hospital.

Larry squeals off full gun, all sirens blaring: the Wah, the
Yelp, the Super Yelp. Strobe bar, side strobes, quarter panel
strobes. Rock n' roll.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. FIRST & THIRD--NIGHT

Both EMS buses breaking to a stop at the crime scene, cops
holding the crowd back; Walls, Frank, Larry, Walls' partner
moving through the crowd.

		FRANK & WALLS
          EMS. Move it!

		BYSTANDER
	Man just walked up and shot 'em. Not
	a word. Man, that was cold.

Two boys, DRUG DEALERS, lie bleeding on the sidewalk. Frank
drops to his knees beside one, Walls the other. Larry wheels
out the stretcher.

		FRANK
		(to Drug Dealer)
	Where you hit?

		VOICE IN CROWD
	Outlaw did this. He works for Cy.

Two white vials roll out of the Drug Dealer's shirt: marked
with red skull and crossbones. Frank looks over--they're
gone, swiped by eager hands.

Listening for a heartbeat, Frank calls to Walls:

		FRANK
          Major Tom, I'm going to Misery. You
	take yours to Bellvue.

				         CUT TO:

INT. 13 ZEBRA EMS VEHICLE--NIGHT

Larry charging through the night while, in back, Frank,
stethoscope in his ears, wrapping a tourniquet around the
Drug Dealer's arm: he's dying fast.

		FRANK
	You're gonna feel a stick in your
	arm. Don't move.

		DRUG DEALER
	I don't want to die.

		NOEL
	I want to die. I'm the one.

		DRUG DEALER
	Oh Jesus, I don't want to die.

		FRANK
	You're not going to die.

		NOEL
	What did you say?

		FRANK
		(to Noel)
	Shut up. You're going to die and
	he's not. Got it.

		DRUG DEALER
		(weak)
	Hold my hand.

		FRANK
	I can't. I got to do the other arm.

		DRUG DEALER
	Please.

		FRANK
		(to Noel)
	Hold this--right there. If you let
	go, I swear, I won't kill you.

Noel holds IV bag as Frank searches for a vein, inserts second
IV needle.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. MERCY EMERGENCY--NIGHT

Larry pulls into Our Lady of Mercy Emergency. Frank says to
the boy:

		FRANK
	It's all right. We're here.

No answer. Frank feels for a pulse, listens with the
stethoscope: nothing. Larry opens the doors.

		LARRY
	Noel, let's go.

Frank turns to his partner:

		FRANK
	He's not breathing. Call a code.

Larry and Frank pull the dead boy out of the bus.

				         CUT TO:

INT. MERCY ER--NIGHT

Frank finishes his report, hands a copy to the clerk, looks
around the now almost empty waiting area. John Burke sleeps
slumped in one of the chairs. Griss stands at his post.

Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, Frank steps outside.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. MERCY EMERGENCY--NIGHT

Frank exits, lights up. The sky is going blue. Inside the
open rear doors of 13 Zebra, Larry mops up bloody floor.

Mary Burke, weary, steps beside Frank.

		MARY
	Hello again.

He offers a cigarette. She accepts:

		       MARY (CONT'D)
          You shouldn't smoke.

		FRANK
	It's okay. They're prescription.
		(beat)
	Works better with a little whiskey.

		MARY
	That's my brother's problem. He's
	passed out inside.

Larry jumps theatrically out of the ambulance, swings the
mop wildly over his head:

		LARRY
	That's it! I can't do it anymore!

Mary laughs once, less than a second. She notices blood stains
on Frank's shirt:

		MARY
	That boy you brought in, he was shot,
	wasn't he?

		FRANK
	Yes.

		MARY
	He's dead, huh?

		FRANK
	Yes.

		MARY
		(pause)
	I think this place stinks.

		FRANK
	Our Lady of Misery.

		MARY
	Did you see my father?

		FRANK
	No.

		MARY
	It's crazy in there. What's wrong
	with that doctor? He keeps mumbling,
	poking himself in the eye when he
	talks to me.

		FRANK
	He's working a double shift.

		MARY
	Thing is, I'm supposed to be the
	fuckup. The one on the stretcher in
	there--that's supposed to be me.
	With my parents crying out here. I
	got a lot of guilt, you know what I
	mean?

He does.

		MARY (CONT'D)
	My father's in a coma, now my mother's
	going crazy. It's like she's in a
	trance.

		FRANK
	She should go home.

		       MARY
	I'd take her, but then who would
	stay here?

Frank looks at her, trying to say the right thing. He notices
Mrs. Burke coming from inside.

 		 FRANK
	Here she is.

Mrs. Burke, dazed, steps out. They join her.

		MRS. BURKE
          It wasn't him.

		MARY
	You saw him?

		MRS. BURKE
	They showed me someone. It wasn't
	him. It wasn't my husband.

		FRANK
	Mrs. Burke, please, they'll take
	care of him. You should go home now.

		MRS. BURKE
	I should know my own husband. They
	wouldn't let me see him.

She drifts away. Frank speaks to Mary:

   		    FRANK
	Larry and I'll drop her back home.
	Help me get her to the ambulance.

		MRS. BURKE
	You want some coffee? I have some
	apple sauce cake too.

They walk Mrs. Burke to 13 Zebra.

		MARY
	Thank you.

Mary watches as Larry backs up the EMS vehicle, Frank sitting
in the back with her mother, pulls into first light.

				    DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. 12TH STREET--EARLY MORNING

Larry dropping Frank off at the corner of First and Sixteenth,
driving on.

It is as if the sun has risen on a different city, different
from the one which Frank drove through the night before: a
city of crumbling neighborhoods laid bare by sunlight; a
city of day people, getting up, having breakfast, going to
work.

				         CUT TO:

INT. FRANK'S APARTMENT--DAY

Frank's studio apartment betrays a minimal existence: single
bed, table, fridge and stove, loveseat, bookshelf, television. 
The bookshelf contains a CD player, medical texts, old
schoolbooks ("Romantic Poetry"), paperback novels and,
incongruously, a picture book of women's fashion.

A framed commendation from the New York Fire Department hangs
beside and open closet of work clothes, corduroy jacket, two
ties on a hook. Remnants of a fast food breakfast on the
table. Aluminum foil covers the windows, blocking out the
sunlight.

Frank stands bareback at the single open window, smoking,
drinking from a glass of whiskey, looking across the gray
cityscape of high rises and water tanks: winding down from
the night's work:

		FRANK (V.O.)
	Saving someone's life is like falling
	in love, the best drug in the world.
	For days, sometimes weeks afterwards,
	you walk the street making infinite
	whatever you see. Once, for weeks I
	couldn't feel the earth. Everything
	I touched became light. Horns played
	in my shoes; flowers fell from my
	pockets ...

TIME DISSOLVES: Frank paces the room. Pours himself another
drink.

		FRANK (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	You wonder if you've become immortal,
	as if you saved your own life as
	well. What was once criminal and
	happenstance suddenly makes sense.
	God has passed through you, why deny
	it, that for a moment there, God was
	you.

TIME DISSOLVE: window is closed. Frank tosses in his sleep.

Nightstand alarm buzzes. Frank sits up, looks at the clock.
Stretching his neck, he walks over to the sink, runs water
on his hands and face.

 					     CUT TO:

EXT. EMS GARAGE--NIGHT

The maintenance garage and dispatch office adjacent to our
Lady of Mercy.

				      	CUT TO:

INT. EMS GARAGE OFFICE--NIGHT

Frank standing on one foot before the desk of CAPTAIN BARNEY,
50, ex-paramedic and lifetime civil servant.

		FRANK
	Good morning, Captain.

Capt. Barney looks over to MISS WILLIAMS, his secretary,
seated at a desk perpendicular to his:

		CAPT. BARNEY
	What am I going to to do with this
	guy?
		(to Frank)
	Pierce, I was just on the phone with
	Borough Command. Out of twelve shifts
	this month, you've been late for
	nine, sick four and that includes
	the shift where you came late and
	went home early.

		FRANK
	I'm sick. That's what I've been
	telling you.

		CAPT. BARNEY
	You're killing me, you know that?
	You got no sick time according to
	Command. I've been told to terminate.

		  FRANK
	It's okay. I'll just get my things
	out of the locker.

		CAPT. BARNEY
	I've never fired anyone in my life.

     		  FRANK
	I'm sorry Captain. Don't take it too
	hard.

		CAPT. BARNEY
	Nobody tells me to fire anyone. I
	told them: shove it up the big one.
		(looks at Miss Williams)
	Sorry.
		(back to Frank)
	I said, you want to fire him, come
	over and do it yourself.

		FRANK
	You know they won't do it. It's up
	to you. You gotta be strong.

		CAPT. BARNEY
	I feel for you, but we got an
	emergency here. It's a weekend of
	full moons.  Everyone's called in
	sick. Larry, Veeber, Stanley too.   
	We need bodies out there. I had to
	put Marcus on Twelve Young. You know
	he's not supposed to work two nights
	in a row.

		FRANK
	You swore you'd fire me if I came in
	late again.

		CAPT. BARNEY
	I'll fire you tomorrow. Hell, better
	than that, I'll forward you some
	sick time. A week, two weeks off--
          how about that?

		FRANK
	I don't think a week's gonna do it.

		CAPT. BARNEY
	I'm sorry, Pierce.
    	 (hands Frank keys)
	You're going out with Marcus. Duty
	calls. The City needs you.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. SECOND AVENUE--NIGHT

12 Young heading downtown, lights off, slowing down for cross
streets. At the wheel: MARCUS, 45, black, reserved, chin
erect, seeming too old for the job. Frank rides techie.

		       MARCUS
	My Lord mother man, you look like
	hell. What were you drinking?

 	 	FRANK
	The captain almost fired me tonight.
	I'm on my way out. Anytime now.

 	 	MARCUS
	Nobody gets fired. Look at me. Only
	thing they might do is transfer you
	to the Bronx. You look like you aged
	ten years since I rode with you last.

		FRANK
	The ghosts--

		MARCUS
	You ever notice people who see shit
	always, are crazy?

		FRANK
	I think the worst is over.

		MARCUS
	It can always get worse. You can't
	change what's out there, only where
	you're coming from. You got to let
	the Lord take over, in here.
 	    (points to Frank's
		chest)

LOVE, a black, tough-talking female dispatcher, comes on the
radio:

		DISPATCHER LOVE
	Twelve Young.
		(beat)
	Let's go, Twelve Young. Answer the
	radio.

		FRANK
	Hey, Marcus, it's Love. I haven't
	heard her in months.

		MARCUS
	She only works when I'm on. I make
	her wait and it drives her crazy.

		FRANK
	Is it true that you and Love went on
	a blind date?
	     (Marcus looks away)
	She hit you with a bottle?

		MARCUS
	She loves me the way no woman ever
	has.

		       DISPATCHER LOVE
	Twelve Young, I don't have time for
	your games. Now answer me or do I
	have to come out there myself?

		MARCUS
          I usually don't do calls before
	coffee. But I think it might do you
	some good.
		(picks up mike)
	Twelve Young is here and I'm gonna
	take care of you, baby. Don't you
	worry about a thing, yahear, cause
	Marcus is alive and on arrival.

		DISPATCHER LOVE
	I'm not your baby, Young, I'm not
	your mother either. You're going to
	a cardiac arrest, Avenue C and Ninth,
	northeast corner. It's a club. Take
	the side entrance.

		MARCUS
	Ten-four, hon.
		(to Frank)
	This is for you.

Marcus flips on the lights and siren.

       				  CUT TO:

EXT. NINTH & AVENUE C--NIGHT

Marcus grabs the yellow airway bag, leaving Frank to lug the
three heavier pieces as they push their way through the crowd
toward a black jacketed DOORMAN holding a walkie-talkie:

		MARCUS
		(to crowd)
	I hope we're not late from you guys
	holding us up here.

				         CUT TO:

INT. CLUB BACKSTAGE--NIGHT

The Doorman leads Frank and Marcus through the smoky graffiti-
covered backstage ante-rooms to a cubicle where a knot of
club types and band members hover around IB BANGIN, 18 year-
old white rapper, face up, blank-eyed and breathless on dirt-
impacted carpet. Hip-hop music echoes from the club PA.

Frank kneels beside IB Bangin, taking a pulse, realizing
it's the gray and black stage makeup making him seem DOA. He
pulls up IB Bangin's eyelid, shines a light into the pupil.

		MARCUS
	Okay, what happened?

   		    DRUMMER
          He's going to be all right, right?

		MARCUS
	No. He's dead.

		DRUMMER
          No way, man.

		MARCUS
          He's dead and there's nothing we can
	do. Come on, Frank, that's it.

		FRANK
		(whispers)
          He's not dead. It's a heroin overdose.
	Break out the Narcon.

		MARCUS
		(announcing)
	He's dead unless you folks want to
	stop bullshitting me and tell it
	straight. Then, Lord willing, we'll
	try to bring him back.

		BYSTANDER
	He broke up with his old lady.

		GIRLFRIEND
	We didn't break up. We were just
	seeing other people.

		MARCUS
	I'm still waiting and this young man
	is still dead.

		BYSTANDER
	She broke his heart.

The Girlfriend shoots a look at the Bystander. Marcus just
stands, hands on hips, silent. Frank opens the drug box.

The Drummer relents:

		DRUMMER
	All right, all right, he's been
	snorting that Red Death stuff. Been
	going for four days.

		       MARCUS
		(brings hands together)
	What's his name?

		DRUMMER
	IB Bangin.

		MARCUS
	What'd you mean IB Bangin? What kind
	of name is IB Bangin?

 	 	GIRLFRIEND
		(Hesitant)
	It's Frederick. Frederick Smith.

      		 MARCUS
		(to body)
	Okay, Freddy.

		GIRLFRIEND
	It's Frederick.

		MARCUS
	Okay, IB Bangin, we're gonna bring
	you back. Every person here grab the
	hand of the person next to you.

Marcus assists them as Frank breaks the cellophane off a
syringe, locates a vial of Narcon. Frank gives Marcus the
high sign--Marcus raises his hands:

		MARCUS (CONT'D)
	Oh Lord, here I am again to ask one
	more chance for a sinner. Bring back
	IB Bangin, Lord. You have the power,
	the might, the super light, to spare
	this worthless man.

Frank injects IB Bangin: he responds to the Narcon with a
jolt, opening his eyes, raising his hands.

		GIRLFRIEND
		(kneeling)
	Frederick!

		BYSTANDER
	Oh wow, man. Oh wow.

   		    IB BANGIN
 	    (sick)
	What happened?

		GIRLFRIEND
	You died, you stupid bastard. I warned
	you.

		DRUMMER
	You guys are awesome.

		FRANK
 	    (to IB Bangin)
	C'mon.

Frank and the Girlfriend guide IB Bangin to the door as Marcus
collects the gear.

		MARCUS
	Not us. The first step is Love. The
	second is Mercy.

He follows Frank, IB Bangin and Girlfriend out, calling for
the crowd to clear.

				         CUT TO:

INT. MERCY ER--NIGHT

IB Bangin sitting with Nurse Constance in triage. Past Griss,
Frank talks with Dr. Hazmat:

		FRANK
	That guy I brought in yesterday,
	post-cardiac arrest. He's gone.

		HAZMAT
	Burke. You won't believe it. He's
	showing cognitive signs. He started
	with spontaneous respiration, now
	he's fighting to pull out the tube.
	Had to sedate him. He's in a CAT
	scan. I'm giving him every test I
	can: thromboytics, steroids,
	nitrodrips, heparin.

		FRANK
	What do you think?

		HAZMAT
	Who knows? It's all lower-brain-stem-
	activity. The heart refuses to
	stabilize--he's coded eleven times
	since he got here. This guy's a
	fighter. Every time the Valium wears
	off he starts yanking those
	restraints.

		FRANK
	The family know?

 	 	HAZMAT
	I wanted to bring them in, to see if
	he'd respond to voices, but they
	weren't in the waiting room. The
	guy's daughter was in my face all
	last night and when I finally have
	something positive to tell her, she's
	gone.

Frank nods, walks down Skid Row, passing Nurse Constance
lecturing IB Bangin:

		NURSE CONSTANCE
	... you put poison in your veins and
	now that you're breathing again you
	can't wait to say thank you and go
	back to poison shopping. Well, since
	we saved your life, maybe you could
	do us a favor and stop breathing in
	another city next time ...

				         CUT TO:

EXT. FIRST AVE--NIGHT

12 Young heading up the avenue.

		MARCUS
	I ever tell you about the time years
	ago I was on this ledge uptown, trying
	to talk this psycho inside?

		FRANK
	Where the guy jumped and you almost
	fell. No, you never told me that
	story.

 	 	MARCUS
	No, you never listened. I was going,
	man, if someone on high hadn't pulled
	me in. I had put all I had into saving
	this dumbass lowlife suicidal that
          when he went down, there was a part
	of me that wanted to go with him.

		FRANK
	Make a left here. I want to stop.

  					    CUT TO:

EXT. BURKE APT. BUILDING--NIGHT

Marcus stops the ambulance on 17th Street.

		FRANK
	I'll be right back.

Frank gets out, walks over to the intercom, pushes the button
for 5A. Mary answers:

		MARY (V.O.)
	Yes?

 	 	FRANK
	Hello, I'm Frank Pierce, from the
	ambulance last night. I brought your
	father into the hospital and I just
	learned some news.

		MARY (V.O.)
	I'll be right down.

Mary appears in a white sweater and simple gray skirt like
schoolgirls wear. The dark makeup is gone. She looks happy.

		MARY (CONT'D)
	He's better, isn't he?

 	 	FRANK
	Well, the doctor says he's showing
	some movement. It's still early, it
	might mean nothing, but I thought
	you'd want to know.

		MARY
	I knew. I sensed it when I heard
	your voice.

 	 	FRANK
	You look so different.

		MARY
	I know. It's awful, isn't it? Night
	of the Living Cheerleaders.

		FRANK
	I think it looks good.

		MARY
	I was going nuts in that waiting
	room so I came back to check on my
	mom.

		FRANK
	How is she?

		       MARY
	Sleeping.

		FRANK
	I was just going to get some food.
	Pizza. Maybe we could.

		MARY
          You can't kill my father that easy.
	He'll fight forever. Like with me:
	hasn't talked to me in three years.
	But it's okay. Sometimes you have to
	put things behind you.

Mary steps to the curb, raises her hand for a taxi. None in
sight.

		FRANK
	Be tough to get a taxi here. We can
	give you a ride if you like.

		MARY
    	 (looks at him)
	Okay.

Frank opens the back doors of the bus, climbs in behind Mary.
They sit on the bench opposite the stretcher.

		MARCUS
	Who's that?

 		      FRANK
	She's the daughter of a cardiac arrest
	I brought in last night. I told her
	we'd give her a ride back to Misery.
	Her father's showing signs of
	improving.

 		      MARCUS
	Oh, Frank, you've got it bad, so
	much worse than I thought.

		FRANK
	I'm hungry too. We gotta get some
	food after this.

        	    MARCUS
	God help us, he's hungry too.

Marcus turns on the radio, an old song from the sixties, as
they head uptown.

				         CUT TO:

INT. MERCY CRITICAL CARE--NIGHT

Frank and Mary walking past the triage station toward the
curtained corner where her father lies. Next to Burke, Dr.
Hazmat assists an AIDS patient amid a forest of IV tubing.

Mr. Burke lies prone, two IV lines hung from poles, intubated
by a hose running to the ventilator, a NG tube covering his
nose. His eyes are permanently half open. Burke's hands and
feet are tied by white nylon restraints. Mary takes her
father's hand as Frank pulls the curtain.

		MARY
	Dad, can you hear me?
		(beat)
	Open your eyes if you can hear me.

A nearby patient SCREAMS. Mary Burke SCREAMS too:

		MARY (CONT'D)
	He squeezed my hand!

Dr. Hazmat and MILAGROS, an intern, walk over.

		MARY (CONT'D)
	He's moving, Doctor. He grabbed my
	hand. Move your hand, Dad, one more
	time.  
		(Burke's hand twitches))
	See. See.

		HAZMAT
	I'll be damned.
		(check's Burke's pupils)
	It's movement, but I'm not sure how
	voluntary.

   		    MARY
	He hears me. Open your eyes, Dad.

Burke's eyes fully open. His cheeks ripple and his lips smack
against the tube between them. His back arches, his body
shakes, his arms yank at their restraints as if reaching to
pull out the wires and tubes. Green lights dance across the
EKG screen, ALARMS sound: first the cardiac monitor, next
the ventilator.

		HAZMAT
	Nurse Crupp, I need ten milligrams
	of Valium.

Hazmat and Milagros hold down Burke's arms as Crupp prepares
the Valium. Mary backs away.

		FRANK
	Why don't we go outside for a little
	while, wait until this passes.

They step away.

				         CUT TO:

INT. LOCKER ROOM--NIGHT

Passing Griss (reading anti-white agitprop) and waiting room
regulars, Frank leads Mary to a small rectangular paramedic
locker area: sofa, desk, two banks of gray lockers, walls
decorated with hospital rules and regulations.

		FRANK
	He wants to pull that tube out. It's
	pretty painful--that's why they keep
	him sedated--but it's a good sign.

		MARY
	You sure? I know my father would
	hate to be tied down. He wouldn't
	even go to the dentist.

He sits across from her, wishing he could be in three seats
at once, each to watch her from a different angle.

		FRANK
	That's how it's done. You have to
	keep the body going until the brain
	and heart recover enough to go on
	their own.

		MARY
	He's better, though, right?

		FRANK
               (reluctant)
	He's better.

		MARY
	Look, I'm sorry, but it's important
	to me. I mean, a week ago I was
	wishing he was dead. And now I want
	hear his voice again, just once more--
	you know what I mean?

Marcus enters with a small pizza and two cokes.

		MARCUS
          Went over to Sal's got this. There
	must be some place in Hell for a guy
	who sells a dollar-fifty a slice. I
	call you if anything comes up.

     		  FRANK
	Thanks.

Marcus exits.

		MARY
	I'm not really hungry.

She says as she picks up a slice of cheese pizza.

		MARY (CONT'D)
	My father was a great man, you know.
	There was nobody he wouldn't help.
	You know that crazy guy Noel who I
	gave water to last night? He lived
	in our house for almost a year. A
	total stranger he'd do anything for,
	his own family though ...

		FRANK
	It's best not to ...
  	   (off her look)
	It's good pizza, huh?

		MARY
	Not as good as Nino's.

		FRANK
	You remember that pizza place, Joe's
	on Tenth Street maybe fifteen years
	ago?  When you ordered a pie it came
	with a little plastic madonna in the
	middle?

   	         MARY
	Yeah, or Saint Anthony. You from the
	neighborhood?

		FRANK
	I grew up on Elizabeth. I went to
	Blessed Sacrament.

		MARY
	On yeah? I went to Holy Name. Where'd
	you go to high school?

		FRANK
	We moved out after that. Upstate.

		MARY
	Like everybody else--except us. Always
	standing on the sidewalk waving
	goodbye to moving trucks. Your parents
	... ?

		FRANK
	They're fine. My old man was a bus
	driver, mom a nurse--I was sort of
	born to it, I guess.

		MARY
	You married?

		FRANK
	Ah, no. I was.
		(beat)
	It's hard to explain. She had a hard
	time adjusting to, well, maybe it
	was my fault too.

Pause.   This thought hangs in the air. From outside: a
BELLICOSE DRUNK is escorted into the ER.

		DRUNK (O.S.)
	White cocksuckers! Get your--Ow!

		MARY
	Is it always this bad in here? I
	mean, how does anyone survive?

		FRANK
	It's been bad lately, but it's always
	bad.

 	 	MARY
	How long you been doing this?

 	 	FRANK
	Five years.

		       MARY
	Wow, you musta seen some things,
	huh? What's the worst thing you ever
	seen?

		FRANK
	You learn to sort of block it out,
	you know, like cops fence off a crime
	scene. But then something good will
	happen and everything will just glow.

		MARY
	You must get a lot of overdoses. I
	bet you picked me up a couple of
	times.

		FRANK
	I think I'd remember that.

       		MARY
	Maybe not. I was a different person
	then. Does everybody you meet spill
	their problems on you like this?

		FRANK
	Mostly. It must be my face. My mother
	always said I looked like a priest.

		MARY
               (wipes her mouth)
	I better go check on my father. Thanks
	for the pizza. I owe you one. Maybe
	when he gets better, you know, when
	we're done with all this.

		FRANK
	Sure.

Frank puts his hand out but she's already on her feet. He
grabs the last slice of pizza, hands it to Griss as she heads
back to Critical Care.

		FRANK (CONT'D)
	Look after her, Griss, okay?

Griss nods.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. CANAL STREET--NIGHT

12 Young back on the job, moving with traffic.

		MARCUS
	Rule number one: Don't get involved
	with patients. Rule number two: Don't
	get involved with patient's daughters.
	You understand?

 	 	FRANK
	What about rule number three: Don't
	get involved with dispatchers named
	Love.

		MARCUS
	You don't know the first thing about
	rule number three, cannot begin to
	understand the complexities of that
	rule. Come on, let's go look at some
	hookers. The Kit Kat will be letting
	out.
		(relevant to nothing)
	Don't ever call a junkie whore a
	crackhead. They get real mad.

Marcus swings up First Ave:

   		    MARCUS (CONT'D)
          Look at these women. You can't even
	tell who's a hooker anymore. Whatever
	happened to go-go boots and hot pants? 
	They wear anything now, walk outta
	the house with whatever they got
	on ...

Frank watches night tableaus (police cars flashing, lovers
kissing, woman crying hysterically, drunken slugfest) as his
mind wanders:

   	         FRANK (V.O.)
	The street is so much more
	unpredictable than the ER and to
	prepare for the unexpected I was
	taught to act without thinking, like
	an army private who can take apart
	and reassemble a gun blindfolded ...

Frank notices another EMS bus: Tom Walls wheeling a stretcher--
Noel, face bloodied, lies restrained as Walls' partner opens
the rear doors.

		FRANK (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	I realized that my training was useful
	in less than ten percent of the calls
	and saving someone's life was rarer
	than that. As the years went by I
	grew to understand that my role was
	less about saving lives than about
	bearing witness. I was a grief mop
	and much of my job was to remove, if
	even for a short time, the grief
	starter or the grief product. It was
	enough I simply showed up.

Marcus continues as if uninterrupted:

		MARCUS
	... look at her. Leaves you no idea
	what's underneath, not even a
	suggestion. Could be a skeleton for
	all you know.

They pass a working girl in a rain slicker who pulls off her
hood to look at them: a familiar face.

		MARCUS (CONT'D)
	Nice though, pulling back her hood
	as we drive by. There's a mystery to
	it, then she shows you.

		FRANK
	She's no whore, Marcus.

		MARCUS
	We're all whores, Frank. You know
	what I'm talking about, the way she
	looked at me.

   	         FRANK
	She wasn't looking at you, man, she
	was looking at me.

Frank, looking back at the Rose face, hears her faintly say:

		"ROSE"
	Why did you kill me, Frank?

		       FRANK
	I didn't kill you.

Marcus, not hearing "Rose's" voice, replies:

		MARCUS
	No, you didn't, Frank, thank you.
	But there's still a couple hours
	left on the shift.

		FRANK
	I need a drink, that's all.

Dispatcher Love's voice cuts through:

		DISPATCHER LOVE
          Twelve Young, answer the radio. I
	have a call for you.

		MARCUS
	She said to me, I love the way you
	talk on the radio.

		DISPATCHER LOVE
	I can't wait all night, Young. I'm
	holding a priority and if you don't
	answer I'm going to knock you out of
	service.

		MARCUS
    	 (keys radio)
	Don't worry, hon. Young is here and
	he's gonna help out--just remember,
	you owe me.

		DISPATCHER LOVE
	You're going to three-four Avenue C,
	17 year-old female cardiac arrest,
	no further information.

		MARCUS
	Ten-four, hon.

Marcus hits the siren.

				         CUT TO:

INT. RUNDOWN TENEMENT--NIGHT

Frank and Marcus standing in a no-income apartment with their
cardiac equipment. MARIA, a 17 year-old Hispanic girl, lies
moaning and breathing shallow on a ratty sofa. CARLOS, her
equally young boyfriend, watches anxiously, holding a candle
for light.

		MARCUS
	Look at that. A fat junkie. That's a
	first.

		FRANK
 	    (to Maria)
	What's wrong.

Carlos speaks broken English:

		CARLOS
	No English. She has terrible pain in
	her belly.

		FRANK
		(hands on stomach)
	Pregnant.

		CARLOS
	No, no, that's impossible.

    	        FRANK
	Are you pregnant? Estas embarazada?

Maria shakes her head, looks away.

		FRANK (CONT'D)
	Can you walk? Puedes caminar?

      		 CARLOS
	She say she in great pain.

		FRANK
	Thanks for the translation.
		(to Maria)
	What's your name? Nombre?

		MARIA
	Maria.

		FRANK
	Let's have a look.

		MARCUS
		(to Carlos)
	You know each other a long time?

		CARLOS
	Two years. Ever since we left island.

 	 	MARCUS
	In that time, you ever have sex?

		CARLOS
	Never. No cigarettes, no drugs, no
	booze.

		MARCUS
	No underwear?

		CARLOS
	We are virgins.

		FRANK
		(inspecting Maria)
	Oh Jesus, we'd better go. Call for
	backup.

Marcus radioing for assistance.

  		     FRANK (CONT'D)
	It's coming.
		(to Carlos)
	Hold her down.

		MARCUS
	What's that, Frank?

		FRANK
	Three legs.

		MARCUS
	That's too many.

		FRANK
	Backup?

       		MARCUS
	It's coming.

		CARLOS
	Is she dying?

		FRANK
	She's having a baby. Twins.

		CARLOS
	Es impossible.

		FRANK
	You can trust me on this one.

		CARLOS
	It's a miracle.

Maria SCREAMS. Marcus kneels beside Frank as a distant EMS
siren grows louder.

		FRANK
	You take the first one.

Frank looks up at the screaming mother: it's not her face.
It's Rose. The Rose face.

				         CUT TO:

INT. MERCY ER--NIGHT

Frank rushing past Nurse Constance, carrying a newborn in
thermal wrap, passing Noel restrained on a gurney:

		FRANK
	She had a pulse.

		NURSE CONSTANCE
	Code! Code Blue!

Hazmat rushing over:

		HAZMAT
	Oh Jesus, put her on the monitor.
	Where's the pediatric code cart?
               (Odette arriving with
		cart)
	Odette give me that tube. All right,
	flatline--let's do CPR. step back,
	Frank. How many months?

		FRANK
	Can't tell. It was a breech, twins.
	The other one seems okay, though.
	Marcus is taking him and the mother
	to Maternity.

Across the room an obscenity-spouting FEMALE CRACKHEAD being
restrained by a patrolman and hospital security--adding to
the sense of emergency and chaos. DR. MISHRA, 50, Pediatric
MD, and nurses squeeze toward newborn edging Frank back.
Mishra takes an osteocatheter out of the cart, forces it
into the now obscured baby as Nurse Constance massages the
infant's chest.

Hazmat steps over to the now restrained Crackhead.

		CRACKHEAD
	I'm a mother! I got a daughter! I
	got rights!

		HAZMAT
		(to nurse)
          10 mil Valium, stat.

Mishra, worried, checks with Nurse Constance--they're losing
the newborn:

		MISHRA
	Status.

		NURSE CONSTANCE
	I think there's a pulse. I think.

Frank looking at the EKG monitor--a green flatline--backs
away.

		MISHRA
	Fuck.

		NURSE CONSTANCE
	Nothing.

Frank walking away, not looking where he's going, backs into
Noel's gurney.

		NOEL
	Excuse me, sir, excuse me, I would
	please trouble you for one cup of
	water. The smallest thing in the
          world to ask for, water. A man is
	dying and that is me.

Noel, his face battered from his encounter with Walls, pulls
at his restraints, howls:

		NOEL (CONT'D)
          For days I've eaten nothing but sand,
	O Lord, I waited so long.

Hazmat looks over:

		HAZMAT
	Christ. Who the hell woke him up?

				         CUT TO:

EXT. CANAL STREET--NIGHT

12 Young on the road again, sky turning blue.

		FRANK
	Don't give me that look.

		MARCUS
	What look?

		FRANK
	You know what I'm talking about.
	It's all over your face. That I-just-
	saved-a-little-baby-boy look.

		MARCUS
	We just saved a little baby boy.
	Think of it that way.

         	   FRANK
	I don't want to hear about it, okay?
	That's three jobs for the night.
	It's over. Three jobs and time for a
	drink. Six am, the cocktail hour.
	Pass the bottle; I know you're
	holding.

Marcus reaches under the seat, pulls a pint of vodka, a quart
of orange juice and two cups out of an old gym bag, passes
them to Frank.

		MARCUS
	The bar is now open.

Frank mixes a screwdriver for Marcus, straight vodka for
himself.

		FRANK
	I hate vodka.

       		MARCUS
	Please, a little decorum if you will.
	What I was going to say is, is that
	holding that baby in my arms, I felt
	like I was twenty-one again. A call
	like that makes me think of going
	back to three nights a week, not
	two, start running again, cut down
	on the drinking.

		FRANK
 	    (pours drink)
	I'll drink to that.

		MARCUS
 	    (raises cup)
	Here's to the greatest job in the
	world.

		FRANK
 	    (knocks vodka back)
	Greatest job in the world.

 	 	DISPATCHER LOVE
	Twelve Young, I have priorities
	holding. Pick up the radio.

		FRANK
	Don't do it, Marcus. Tell her the
	bus died, our radio's not working,
	our backs are out. Tell her we're
	too drunk to take any more calls.

		MARCUS
	Let's do it!
 	    (keys mike)
	It's Marcus, Love, only for you.

		DISPATCHER LOVE
	Male diff breather, approximately
	30, Houston and A.

		MARCUS
	Ten-four.

Marcus hits the sirens and lights, accelerates to full speed.
The vodka spills; Frank grabs the dash.

		MARCUS (CONT'D)
	I'm coming, Love! I'm coming!

Marcus swings the bus wildly to avoid a cab, SKIDS into a
turn--and smack toward a parked truck. Frank covers his face
and screams.

CRASH! The back of the ambulance rams into the truck, the
rear windows shatter.

		MARCUS (CONT'D)
	Shit.

Frank looks around, realizes no one is hurt. He climbs out:

		MARCUS (CONT'D)
	Where you going?

		FRANK
	I quit! I'm through!

		MARCUS
	You can't leave me now.

Frank walks up Avenue A, leaving Marcus and the disabled
vehicle. The first rays of sun strike the buildings ahead.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. MERCY EMERGENCY--DAYBREAK

Frank turning the corner, checking his watch, about to enter
the Dark Bar across the corner from the hospital, watching
Noel run past him and away, skipping from one foot to the
other.

		FRANK
	So long, Noel.

The Emergency doors open: Mary Burke, head down, looking
neither direction, walks away from Frank. Griss steps out
after her. Frank joins him:

		FRANK (CONT'D)
	What's going on, Griss?

		GRISS
          Your friend there just untied the
	water beggar. Griss was coming out
	to thank her. Probably saved Griss a
	murder charge.
 	    (about Mary)
	Having a tough time of it.

Mary starts to run. Frank follows. She pushes her way through
a group of high schoolers; Frank does likewise, keeping his
distance.

Five blocks later, Mary hesitates at a plaza outside the
Stuyvesant Town projects,

				      	CUT TO:

EXT. STUYVESANT TOWN--MORNING

Frank stops a few steps away from Mary; Mary turns.

		FRANK
	Excuse me. You seemed like you were
	in trouble.

		MARY
     	(steps over)
	I'm all right. I just can't stand to
	see people tied up.  I'm in the
	waiting room for hours, listening to
	Noel screaming. The only reason he's
	screaming is 'cause he's tied up.

		FRANK
	Don't seem so bad to me.

		MARY
	Don't say that. I wanted to cut my
	father loose too. They told me he
	almost died and five minutes later
	they say he's better and I go in.
	It's killing me seeing him fighting
	like that.
		(gazes up building)
	Look, since you're here, maybe you
	could do me a favor. I need you to
	wait for me outside this building,
	okay? I have to visit a friend who's
	sick.

		FRANK
          Okay.

Mary takes a few steps, turns back.

		MARY
	I'm only asking because it's a
	dangerous building. There's been
	some robberies, a woman was raped
	not long ago. This woman I'm seeing,
	she'll want to talk to me all day,
	but if I can point to you out the
	window and say you're waiting, I can
	be out quick. if anything happens,
	I'll be in apartment 16M.

		FRANK
	Maybe I should come up with you.

		MARY
	If I'm not back in fifteen minutes,
	hit the buzzer. That way she'll let
	me go.

		FRANK
	Nothing's going to happen. I'll come
	with you.

 		      MARY
	No, I'll be fine. I'm just visiting
	a sick friend.

She walks into the building. He follows.

				         CUT TO:

INT. ELEVATOR--DAY

The dinged metal doors shudder shut as Frank follows Mary
into the graffittied elevator. It jumps three feet upwards,
stops, then continues, metal scraping concrete at each passing
floor.

		MARY
	I shouldn't have asked you to come.

 	 	FRANK
	You asked me not to come.

  		     MARY
	Promise you won't go inside.

		FRANK
	Fifteen minutes.

 	 	MARY
	I just have to relax a little. Not
	feel so guilty all the time.

		FRANK
	We can still go back. I'll walk you
	home. You sleep a couple of hours,
	watch some TV, take a bath.

		MARY
	Don't be a cop. If you have any doubts
	about this, it's my fault.

The elevator jerks to a stop; the doors open.

				         CUT TO:

INT. SIXTEENTH FLOOR--MORNING

Mary turns to Frank:

		MARY
	You go on home, okay. I'm fine,
	really. I don't need you. Thanks.

Mary pushes the bell at 16M. KANITA, 25, wearing a paisley
robe, opens the doors and says:

		KANITA
	Hey Cy, guess who's here?

		COATES (O.S.)
	Mary ...

The elevator doors close on Frank.

				         CUT TO:

INT. LOBBY--MORNING

Frank paces past the sleeping security guard, checks his
watch.

He presses the elevator button.

				         CUT TO:

INT. THE OASIS--MORNING

The door to 16M opens:

		KANITA
          Can I help you?

		FRANK
	Mary Burke. She's a friend.

		KANITA
	She's not here.

Frank pushes past her.

		KANITA (CONT'D)
	Wait a minute. You can't go in.

CY COATES, 45, light-skinned black, stands in the smoky room.
Dark curtained windows block the sunlight; a dirty fish tank
casts a green glow across the beat-up furniture.

A large framed photo of a volcano hangs over the couch.

		COATES
	It's okay, Kanita. Come on in.

  		KANITA
	He looks like a cop.

		COATES
	He's not a cop, he's a medic.
		(extends hand)
	I'm CY Coates.

		FRANK
	Frank Pierce.

		COATES
	Mary said you might be coming.

		FRANK
	Where is she?

		COATES
	Sleeping in the back.

		FRANK
	She asked me to pick her up.

		COATES
	I know, but she told me to tell you
	she wants to crash here a few hours.
	Terrible about her father, isn't it?

		FRANK
	I better just go in and see her.

Kanita sits on the sofa next to an unshaven sleeping man.
Coates gestures:

		COATES
	I call this the Oasis. Refuge from
	the world out there. Did you know
	two people were shot in this building
	last week?

Frank heads down the hall toward the rear of the apartment;
Coates follows. They pass an open door where inside TIGER, a
fat man with dried blood running down the corner of his mouth,
sits punching computer keys at a desk.

		COATES (CONT'D)
	Careful. That's the Tiger. The lady's
	down the hall. Welcome to Sunrise
	Enterprises, Frank, the stress-free
	factory.

In the NEXT ROOM Mary lies on a mattress on the floor, yellow
sheet pulled up to her neck. Frank leans over her:

		FRANK
	Mary. Mary, we've got to get going.

		MARY
		(groggy)
	No, no.

		COATES
	She wanted something to help her
	sleep.

		FRANK
	Mary, we really have to go.

Mary blindly swings her fist at him, collapses unconscious
back to the mattress.

		COATES
	Frank, she's suffered enough. She's
	okay, I promise.
		(puts hand on Frank's
 	    shoulder)
	C'mon, Frank.

Coates escorts Frank back to the LIVING ROOM.

		COATES (CONT'D)
          I'm always interested in people in
	stressful occupations and being a
	paramedic is about as stressful as I
	can imagine. Here, sit down. What's
	it like? Tell me some war stories.

		FRANK
		(sits)
	Got a beer?

Cy sits across from him, pulls out a pin-sized joint, lights
it:

		COATES
	That shit is poison, Frank. We don't
	drink alcohol here. What you need is
	one of these.

		FRANK
          Did you give Mary something called
	Red Death?

		COATES
	Red Death?
		(passes joint to Kanita)
	Tell me something, Frank--does killing
	your clients make good business sense
	to you? The kids selling that shit
	have no sense. They'll be taken care
	of, don't worry about that.

		FRANK
	I should be going. I just quit.

		COATES
	Sleep is all stress reduction. Here.
		(offers white pill)
	You take one of these, sleep two
	hours, that's all you need.
		(Frank hesitates)
	Why do you think I'm telling you
	this, Frank--for my health?  You
	ought to look at yourself in the
	mirror, man. Kanita, get him a glass
	of water.

Frank watches as Kanita gets up, walks to the kitchen. Coates
places the pill in his hand.

		FRANK
	Is this what you gave Mary?

		COATES
	That's the stuff. I call it the Red
	Lion. Very king-of-the-jungle.

No language, only brute power. You can't believe how relaxing
it is.

Kanita returns with a glass of water, gives it to Frank;
Coates stands, feeds the fish.

		COATES (CONT'D)
	Frank, I'm trying to help you.  Drink
	up.

Frank swallows the white pill, drinks the water. He places
his arms on the chair:

		FRANK
	I guess I'll be going.

 		      COATES
	Just take it easy.

Frank looks around the smoke-filled room. Kanita walks over,
extends her hand.

		KANITA
	Take my pulse.
		(he does)
	It's good, isn't it?

		FRANK
          Perfect.

		KANITA
	I knew it. I was wrong about you. 
	You're not so bad.

Kanita runs her hand across his shoulders. Frank starts to
nod. The room getting warm and dark. His eyelids lower: sleep,
precious sleep.

						CUT TO:

FRANK'S ROSE DREAM

Voices and sounds echo through the purple haze as Frank's
mind drifts in time and space. Action and sounds slow, speed
up, distort--intermix with the Oasis--as Frank goes back:

This is how it begins: the last time, the first time ...

Larry exits 13 Zebra as Rose, 18, wearing a yellow rain
slicker, falls to her knees in the miasmic dream stank, onto
the sidewalk, then onto her back. From forty feet away Frank,
seeing her reach for a parking meter, grabbing the tube kit,
running.

Rose gasping for breath, Frank falling to his knees, lifting
her tongue, prying her teeth apart, slipping the blade between
her lips--Rose not breathing: waiting for her to inhale,
shooting the tube down her vocal cords. Larry listening to
lung sounds, belly sounds:

		LARRY
          You're in the stomach!

		FRANK
	You sure?

		ROSE
	Rose!

		FRANK
	Huh?

 	 	ROSE
	My name. Rose.

                      LARRY
	You're in the stomach, man.

Frank pulling the tube out, trying again.

Somewhere: CY Coates laughs.

		LARRY (CONT'D)
          You're in the stomach! Let me try.

		FRANK
	One more time!

Rose going blue, pulse rate dropping, EKG Slowing: Jim
Morrison singing.

		LARRY
	Stomach again.

 		      FRANK
	No way!

Larry ripping the tube from Frank's hands, taking over,
pushing Frank aside, trying CPR, intubating Rose, air moving
into her lungs--it doesn't matter. Rose is gone.

Frank hears a SCREAM: it's his own voice.

				         CUT TO:

INT. THE OASIS--DAY

Frank standing screaming in the living room. CY walking over,
Kanita standing, the sleeping man awaking.

		COATES
	Frank, take it easy. what happened?

		KANITA
	He flipped out.

Frank bends over in pain.

		COATES
	Be cool, man. You're having a
          paradoxical reaction. It can happen.
		(to Kanita)
	Didn't I tell you this guy was
	stressed out?

		KANITA
	Stressed? He's psycho.

Frank heads to where Mary sleeps.

  		     COATES
	Frank, where you going?

In the BACK BEDROOM, Frank picks up Mary, hoists her over
his shoulder fireman-style and heads out.

		COATES (CONT'D)
	You're making a mistake. Sit down
	and relax a minute.

Frank opens the front door--no one stops him--exits.

		COATES (CONT'D)
               (calling)
	She'll be back. And, by the way, you
	owe me ten bucks.

				         CUT TO:

INT. STUYVESANT LOBBY--DAY

The elevator doors open. Frank sets Mary on her feet.

		MARY
	I can walk.

She says weaving out of the front doors.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. STUYVESANT TOWN--DAY

Mary walks a Few steps into the plaza, stumbles; Frank catches
her.

		MARY
	Let go of me.
		(he relaxes)
	You shouldn't have come up. I told
	you not to. You could have gotten us
	both killed.

Mary heads up the avenue: past baby strollers, postal workers,
deliverymen.

		MARY (CONT'D)
	You and CY have a nice talk? He tell
	you about Sunrise Enterprises, helping
	people? Well, I've seen him hurt
	people. Why are you following me?

		FRANK
	Because you can barely walk.

Frank walking slightly beside and behind, lights a cigarette.

		MARY
	You remember Noel, from the other
	night, how Noel is now? He wasn't
	always like that. He was my brother's
	best friend. Cy or Tiger or one of
	those other goons put a bullet in
	Noel's head. He was in a coma three
	months. Crazy ever since.

They stop at a three-story brick apartment building.

		       MARY (CONT'D)
	This is my place.

She unlocks the door. He follows her in.

				         CUT TO:

INT. MARY'S APT. BUILDING--DAY

Mary grabs the railing, heads up the stairs.

		MARY
	What is it? You want to help me, you
	feel sorry for me? Keep it to
	yourself.

		FRANK
	I need to sit down a minute.

		MARY
	Or maybe you wanna fuck me? Everyone
	else has.

Mary opens the door to her first floor apartment; Frank
follows. The room is clean and feminine. Unframed water colors
stacked against the wall atop a desk. A black lab greets
Mary, she pets him. Frank slumps on the sofa.

		MARY (CONT'D)
	I've been clean two years now. I got
	a job. I paint when I'm home. Don't
	bother anybody. Then all this shit
	happens.

Frank keels over onto his side, his head hitting a cushion,
eyes closed, dog licking his cheek.

		MARY (CONT'D)
	Oh no you don't. You can't stay here.

He's asleep, the sound of her crying fading in his head.

				       FADE OUT:

INT. MARY'S APT.--NIGHT

FADE IN: a passing siren wakes Frank. He thinks back, looking
around the darkened room, realizes where he is. The dog comes
over, licks his hand.

		FRANK
	Hello, I'm Frank. Mary's friend. A
	very close friend who loves animals.

He removes the blanket Mary has laid over him, stands:

		FRANK (CONT'D)
	Hello?

Frank walks cautiously through the dark, finds a bathroom
lit by a glowing Mickey Mouse switch. He flips on the switch:
a string of green and red Christmas lights glow. Three types
of soap sit on the sink. He turns on the faucet:

		FRANK (V.O.) (CONT'D)
	I washed my face with three kinds of
	soap, each smelling like a different
	season. It felt good to be in a
	woman's room again, especially a
	woman who wasn't comatose or severely
	disabled. I felt that perhaps I had
	turned a corner, like I saved someone,
	though I didn't know who.

				         CUT TO:

INT. EMS GARAGE OFFICE--NIGHT

Frank standing at Captain Barney's desk.

		CAPT. BARNEY
	You're late, Pierce. I know, but I
	can't fire you. I've got nobody to
	work sixteen XRay with Walls.

		FRANK
	No ...

		       CAPT. BARNEY
	I got some forms here to fill out
	about that accident when you get the
	time.
		(hands him keys)
	I'll fire you tomorrow. I promise.

		FRANK
	What if there is no tomorrow?

		CAPT. BARNEY
	Go on, get outta here, Pierce, before
	I give you a big hug.
 	    (to Miss Williams)
	I love this guy.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. MERCY EMERGENCY--NIGHT

Frank walks toward Sixteen XRay as Walls gets out of the
front seat. The EMS vehicle is dented and rusted, a relic of
wars and a hodgepodge of parts.

		WALLS
          Frank, what do you know. It's you
	and me again tonight, the Rough
	Riders, tearing up the streets just
	like old times.
 	    (kicks the front tire)
          This old bus is a warrior, Frank,
	just like us. I have tried to kill
	him and he will not die. I have a
	great respect for that.

Frank makes a "be right back" gesture, walks into ER.

				         CUT TO:

INT. MERCY ER--NIGHT

Saturday night at the Knife and Gun Club: the joint is
hopping, the sound system blaring.

Frank passing Griss holding back an angry Hispanic man with
a bleeding arm:

		GRISS
          Don't make me take off my sunglasses.

		FRANK
	Morning, Griss.

      		 NURSE CONSTANCE
	We're full up tonight, Frank.

Frank walks over to unit three, Mr. Burke's cubicle, pulls
back the curtain. Burke lies sedated, wired and tubed. Frank
leans over, feels Burke's pulse.

Frank's expression changes--he looks at the EKG monitor:
green lines seem to be at war, normal beats marching in
formation against wild-looking rhythms, the heart working
hard and not getting much done.

Burke's face twitches. Burke's voice speaks in Frank's head:

		BURKE'S VOICE
          Go to the bank, boy, take out
	everything you can.

Frank turns up the EKG amplitude:

		FRANK
          Mr. Burke?

  		     BURKE'S VOICE
	I'm going. I've had enough.

The alarms start to ring: EKG first, followed by the bells
off the oxygen saturation monitor and low drone of ventilator.

Intern Milagros pulling open the curtain behind Frank, shaking
her head, reaching for the defribilator paddles, handing
them to Frank. He steps back:

		FRANK
  	You do it.

		MILAGROS
	  Can't reach. You're taller.

  		BURKE'S VOICE
  	Don't do it.

		FRANK
  	I thought he was getting better.

		MILAGROS
  	Technically, yeah. I suppose. It
	  doesn't matter.

		FRANK
  	Why not?

		MILAGROS
  	Tha family wants us to do everything
	  to save him--so, that's it. They
	  want to keep him alive, they want to
	  believe in miracles, we keep him
	  alive. Shock him, Frank. He'll come
	  back. He always comes back.

		FRANK
		(takes paddles)
	  Clear!

Frank shocks Burke: his body convulses.

		BURKE'S VOICE
  	Ow!

The heartbeats on monitor return to regular formation.

		BURKE'S VOICE (CONT'D)
  	You son of a bitch.

		MILAGROS
	  Should I increase the lidocaine?

Frank, despondent, not listening, walks away.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. AVENUE A--NIGHT

16 XRay driving past a strip of night clubs and restaurants:
the sidewalks full of young people laughing, jostling,
embracing.

Walls driving. In addition to the EMS two-way and AM radio,
Walls keeps a police band walkie-talkie open. He looks into
the back of the bus:

		WALLS
	Frank, what you doing back there?

Frank places an open drug box on the stretcher, pulls out an
IV set, wraps a tourniquet around his left bicep.

		FRANK
	I'm sick, Tom. I need a cure.
		(injects himself)
	Vitamin B cocktail, followed by an
	amp of glucose and a drop of
	adrenaline. Not as good as beer, but
	all I got.

		WALLS
	Come on, Frank. There's blood spilling
	in the streets.

Frank crawls back in front carrying the IV bag, puts on the
oxygen mask, turns on the main tanks, takes a deep hit.

		FRANK
		(pulls off mask)
	These are hard times, Tom.

		WALLS
	Yeah. Great, isn't it?

		FRANK
	Great to be drunk. Sobriety's killing
	me.

		WALLS
	Look up, Frank. Full moon. The blood's
	gonna run tonight. I can feel it.
	Our mission: to save lives.

		FRANK
	Our mission is coffee, Tom. A shot
	of the bull, Puerto Rican espresso.

		WALLS
	Ten-four. El Toro de Oro. Blast off.

Walls hits the sirens, accelerates.

		FRANK
	The cure's not working, Tom. Maybe
	we should go back to the hospital.

		WALLS
	Don't worry, kid. Tom'll take care
	of you. Put your head out the window,
	get some of that summer air. Listen
	to the music. El Toro de Oro. Andale.
	Pronto.

Walls turns up the radio, drums his hands against the wheel.

		DISPATCHER
	Okay, units, it's suicide hour.
          Fourteen Boy, I show you in the
	hospital sixty minutes but I know
	you're in the diner on 14th. Put
	down the burger, I got a call for
	you around the corner, 14 and 3rd, a
	man with a noose around his neck and
	nothing to hang it on. Sixteen XRay,
	don't even think about getting coffee,
	I have a call for you too.

		WALLS
 	    (on radio)
	Sixteen XTerminator here. We like
	our coffee bloody. Make it good--my
	partner's dying to help someone.

		DISPATCHER
	You're in luck, X: your patient awaits
	you with bleeding wrists on Avenue C
	and Fourth.

Frank pulls the IV needle out of his arm, searches the glove
compartment:

		FRANK
	Tom, where are the Band-aids? This
	is an ambulance, isn't it?

 	 	WALLS
 	    (hitting the gas)
	Look out!

16 XRay lurches forward.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. AVENUE C AND 4TH--NIGHT

16 XRay brakes to a stop before a duster of derelicts, junkies
and night people. Two DRUNKS are trying to help a friend
with CUT WRISTS.

		WALLS
	What the hell's going on?

		DRUNK #1
	You've gotta take him to the hospital.
	He tried to kill himself. Show him
	your wrist. Show A.

Cut Wrists gets up, leans against the ambulance, shaking.

		DRUNK #1 (CONT'D)
	See, he ain't right.

		WALLS
          Hold it. I will not take anyone
          anywhere against his will. This is
          America. People have rights.

		DRUNK #2
	He was bleeding before. He kept
	spilling his beer. I gave him mouth-
	to-mouth.

		WALLS
	You're lucky you didn't kill him.
 	    (to Cut Wrists)
          We're going to hear it straight from
	the loony's mouth. Are you crazy?
	Did you try to bump yourself off?

		CUT WRISTS
 	    (salivatory)
	Yesssss.

		WALLS
	Why didn't you say so.

Walls escorts Cut Wrists into the back of the bus, pulls a
plastic electric patch off the EKG monitor. Frank joins them.

		WALLS (CONT'D)
	Sir, I am going to give you some
	medicine that is still very
	experimental. It's from NASA, and
	although the astronauts have been
	using it for years, we are the first
	service to try it. I will put this
	patch on your forehead like this,
	and in about a minute you will have
	to relax.
 	    (places patch)
	You will forget all your suicidal
	feelings. It's very important that
	you wear this for a least twenty-
	four hours and keep checking the
	mirror. If the patch turns green you
	have to see the doctor immediately.
	The side effects could be fatal.

Cut Wrists nods.

 	           FRANK
	This is the worst suicide attempt
	I've ever seen. You feel the pulse?
	Here. That's where you cut, and it's
	not across, it's down like so.
 	    (takes out his knife)
	Here take it.

  		CUT WRISTS
 	    (shaking)
	I can't.

		FRANK
	With all the poor people of this
	city who wanted only to live and
	were viciously murdered, you have
	the nerve to sit here waiting to die
	and not go through with it. You make
	me sick. Take it.

Cut Wrists bolts out of the back of the bus, trips as he
hits the ground, runs down the street, turning the corner
still holding the patch to his forehead.

		WALLS
	We cured him, Frank. When we work
	together there's nothing we can't
	fix.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. EL TORO DE ORO--NIGHT

16 XRay parked outside a fluorescent chrome and plastic coffee
shop.

 				        CUT TO:

INT. EL TORO DE ORO--NIGHT

Frank smoking at a formica table, his walkie-talkie upright
next to an ashtray. Walls returns with two espressos as the
Dispatcher rattles on.

		WALLS
		(sits)
	Sounds like they're trying to clean
	up the bus terminal tonight,

Frank doesn't answer. Tom shines his mini-flashlight in
Frank's eyes:

		WALLS (CONT'D)
	Hello, hello. Major Tom to Frank,
	time to come home.

Frank watches a hooker on the sidewalk. Two street punks
dripping gold and attitude head the opposite direction: one
turns his head, looks at Frank--it's Rose. The Rose face.

Frank getting up, grabbing his walkie and coffee, heading
out.

		WALLS (CONT'D)
	Where you going?

		FRANK
	C'mon, Tom. The city's burning.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. HOUSTON--NIGHT

Frank at the wheel, driving high speed: radio full volume.

		WALLS
	Whatja doing?

       		FRANK
	I feel the need, the need for speed.
	I'm driving out of myself.

		WALLS
	The brakes are shot.

		FRANK
	I've taken that into consideration.

		WALLS
	You okay?

		FRANK
	I never felt better in my life.

		DISPATCHER
	Sixteen XRay, XRay.

		FRANK
 	    (keys radio)
	X.

		DISPATCHER
	First of all, I want you to know how
	sorry I am about this. I've always
	liked you two. A unit above none, a
	legend in its own lunchtime, so it
	hurts me deeply to do this but I
	have no choice. You must go to Second
	and St. Marks. In front of a liquor
	store you'll find a forty year-old
	male, unconscious, lying next to his
	wheelchair. Do I have to say more?

		FRANK
		(to radio)
	You've said too much already.

		WALLS
	Mr. Oh.

		FRANK
	It's early for him.

		WALLS
	That's all right, we're not meant to
	do Oh tonight. Something is going to
	happen. I can feel it.

Tom hears something on the police band: a call for units to
Stuyvesant Town.

		WALLS (CONT'D)
          Bingo.
 	    (keys police walkie)
	EMS to Central. What was that call?

		POLICE DISPATCH
	A jumper. Stuyvesant Town.

		WALLS
	Ten-four.   One minute out.

		DISPATCHER
	Sixteen, Sixteen XRay. Level One
	Emergency.

But they're not listening--Frank's off to Stuyvesant Town.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. STUYVESANT TOWN--NIGHT

Police cars, fire engines, a massive Emergency Service rescue
truck all flashing dome lights on the street, on the plaza
surrounding Cy Coates' building: cops, Swat team, spotlights,
onlookers.

Frank and Tom, getting out, looking up: the spotlit figure
of Cy Coates, thirteen floors above, suspended on a railing,
legs dangling.

		WALLS
	Whadda we bring?

		FRANK
	Better bring it all.

				         CUT TO:

INT. LOBBY--NIGHT

Frank and Tom, lugging their equipment, meet up with cops,
firemen and their rescue equipment.

		FRANK
          The elevator's fucked. We'd never
	all fit anyway. Let's go.

		FIREMAN
	That's thirteen flights.

		WALLS
	The news guys just pulled up.

		POLICE SERGEANT
	The stairs, men, the stairs.

The Sergeant leads a half dozen cops and firemen up the stairs
as the elevator doors open. Tom, Frank and two COPS squeeze
inside.

 	           WALLS
          This guy a jumper?

		COP
          We got a call for shots fired on
          the sixteenth floor. The jumper
          called right after.

		FRANK
               (to Walls)
          I'm going to sixteen.

As the elevator doors close.

		         		CUT TO:

INT. THE OASIS--NIGHT

Frank steps out with the officers. The door to 16M is open:
Kanita lies half in, half out the door, a perfectly round
hole above her eye, splinters of bone and blood down the
side of her nose.

The carpet is soaked with water; shards of glass lie amid
dying fish. A cop returns from the rear hall of the apartment,
stands before photo of volcano:

		COP
          That's it, nobody else home.

Frank, looking over the balcony, sees Cy three floors below.

		FRANK
	I'm going to thirteen.

Frank heads clown the stairs.

				         CUT TO:

INT. THIRTEENTH FLOOR--NIGHT

Frank emerges on thirteen: Walls, the panting Police Sergeant
and team have overturned the furniture in 13M: the absent
owners would have trouble recognizing it. The floor is covered
with gas-powered metal cutters, acetylene torches, ropes,
harnesses.

A trail of blood leads to where Walls stands, Tiger's prone
body behind him:

		WALLS
	Get this, Frank--we got two patients.
	Number one, the scarecrow outside.
	Number two misses the railing but
	breaks both legs on the balcony,
	then throws himself through a glass
	window, heads to the bedroom, where
	he's now passed out.

		FRANK
               (about Coates)
          Well, he's the steakhead of the night,
	then.

           	 WALLS
	I don't think the fire people can
	touch him out there.

 	 	FRANK
	How's he doing?

 	           WALLS
	I haven't had a chance to see him
	yet. I'm going to take care of
	sleeping beauty.

Frank goes over to Coates as two cops strap on harnesses. CY
hangs impaled on the railing, a steel spike passing through
his hip. Glowing in spotlights from thirteen floors below,
Frank takes Coates' vital signs, gently presses his abdomen:

		FRANK
	Does that hurt?

		COATES
               (screams)
	No!

Frank, IV bag in his teeth, putting an oxygen mask on Coates:

 		      FRANK
	I don't think you've hurt any major
          organs.
 	    (sets IV line)
	We got to get you off this thing
	without setting off bleeding.

Cops behind click on harnesses ("You in?" "Yeah" "You in?")
attach straps to pitons they've hammered into the brick wall,
bring out metal cutters and torches.

		       FRANK (CONT'D)
	They're gonna torch the fence. You're
	gonna feel the metal getting warm,
	maybe very warm.

 	           COATES
          I can't hold up my head anymore.

Frank passes the IV bag to one of the cops, holds Coates,
head. CY relaxes his neck as SPARKS splay like fireworks
beneath him, fall to the concrete.

		COATES (CONT'D)
	So, Frank, am I going to live?

		FRANK
	You're going to live.

		COATES
	I've been thinking about things.
	Meditating on my financial future.
	You guys gave me plenty of time to
	meditate on the future. Whatja do,
	stop for Chinese on the way over? 
	There's plenty of food in my place.

		FRANK
	I was tired. I needed a coffee.

		COATES
	What about Kanita?

		FRANK
	Dead.

		COATES
	That's too bad. Get some money, a
	nice looking girl on your arm, and
	everyone wants to take a piece. Some
	kid I wouldn't let wash my Mercedes
	is in my house, shooting at me. Damn,
	I thought I could make it onto the
	balcony like Tiger. He's fat, that's
	why, falls faster. I'm trying to
	watch my weight, and look what
	happens. Am I shot, Frank?

		FRANK
	No.

         	   COATES
	Boy can't shoot for shit, either.
	Goddamn that's hot.

Frank looks: the spike in Coates' hip starting to glow red.
CY stretches his hand toward the skyline, his face backlit
by raining acetylene sparks:

		COATES (CONT'D)
          Isn't it beautiful? When the fires
	start to fall, then the strongest
	rule it all. I love this city.

The torch breaks the spike free: Frank and Coates FREE FALL
three feet, jerk to a stop. Cy yelps. The crowd cheers from
below.

Frank now grabbing, holding Coates tightly--Frank's hands
the only thing keeping Coates from falling--as the cops hoist
them up.

		COP
               (to Frank)
          Good thing we buckled you in, huh?

		COATES
	What about me? Who's supposed to
	buckle me?

		COP
 	    (to 2nd cop)
	I thought you did.

    	        2ND COP
	I thought you did.

		COP
 	    (to Coates)
	I'm so sorry, sir.

The cops lift Frank and Coates onto the balcony.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. MERCY EMERGENCY--NIGHT

16 XRay parked in front.

				         CUT TO:

INT. MERCY CRITICAL CARE--NIGHT

Frank walking out of the restroom wiping water off his face,
looking at the gurney where Coates lies on his side, metal
spike still sticking through his hip, IV line running to his
arm, eyes closed. Nurses walk past Coates: he's stabilized,
waiting his turn. CY, take a number.

Frank spots Hazmat at Burke's cubicle, walks over.

		HAZMAT
	Nurse Crupp, we're going to need
	some Valium here. He's waking up
	again.

The ventilator alarm goes off as Burke pulls at his
restraints.

 		      HAZMAT (CONT'D)
               (urgent)
	Where's that Valium?

Nurse Crupp walks briskly over, injects needle into one of
Burke's IV bags.

Burke's voice speaks in Frank's head:

		BURKE'S VOICE
          Don't. Don't do it.

		HAZMAT
	Give me a hand, Frank. I've got to
          get something between those teeth.

Frank helps Hazmat force in a bite stick. The monitor alarm
cuts off, the ventilator starts up again, pumping air in,
pulling air out.

		HAZMAT (CONT'D)
	You can't believe how much he's
	improved.

		FRANK
	How many times have you shocked him
	tonight?

		HAZMAT
	Fourteen. We finally got him a room
	upstairs. Should be up there in a
	couple of hours.

		FRANK
	What do you do, just have someone
	follow him around with a defribilator?

		HAZMAT
               (laughs)
	That's good, Frank. No, but they
	might surgically implant one, about
	the size of my thumb. It goes near
	the shoulder here, with two electrodes
	connected to the heart. It sends a
	shock whenever it senses a drop in
	blood flow. Amazing, isn't it?

		FRANK
	A medical miracle.

				         CUT TO:

INT. MERCY WAITING ROOM--NIGHT

Frank notices Mary Burke in waiting area with her brother,
mother and several others. Gone is the lost daughter, the
scared junkie. Tonight she's dressed for strength: leather
jacket, blue jeans, black work boots.

		MARY
	Everyone, this is the medic who
	brought my father in. Frank, these
	are some of my father's friends.

Frank greets them.

		FAMILY FRIEND
	We live out an the Island now, but
	we used to live right down the block
	from Pat. He was like a saint to us.
	Came as soon as we heard.

		FRANK
 	    (to Mary)
	I'm going out for a smoke.

Mary whispers something to her mother, joins him.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. MERCY EMERGENCY--NIGHT

Frank offers her a cigarette. Walls waits in 16 XRay, now
parked at the curb.

		MARY
	I heard CY Coates was brought in. He
	looked pretty bad.

		FRANK
	He'll be all right.

       		MARY
	Too bad. He called me up today, can
	you believe that? I don't know how
	he got my number. He asks me do I
	want to come over and see him, I
	tell him I'd rather go to a leper
	colony. He says there's a new gang
	that wants to kill him, take over
	the business. I told him I hope he's
	right. That they kill him. That's
	what I told him.

		FRANK
	It'll be a while before he's up and
	running again.

		MARY
	OK, last night I was weak. it won't
	happen again. And all that shit I
	said--it was just because I was
	stoned. Forget it.

		FRANK
	No problem. Thanks for letting me
	crash. It was the best sleep I've
	had in months. I used some of your
	soap.

		MARY
	I wish these people would leave
	already. I can't listen to another
	story. Did you see him?
               (Frank doesn't answer)
	That doctor says the brain is coming
	around. They're waiting for the heart
	to stabilize. I don't know who to
	believe. He says they still have to
	keep him tied up.

		FRANK
	Can I bring you something back to
	eat--a falafal, some pizza?

		MARY
	No, we just ate. I only remember how
	tough my father was. Now I know he
	had to be like that, to make us tough.
	This city'll kill you if you aren't
	strong enough.

		FRANK
	No, the city doesn't discriminate.
	It gets everybody.

Walls flashes 16 XRay's headlights, hits the horns.

		FRANK (CONT'D)
          I gotta go. Another call.

Frank, his heart pounding, steps closer to her.

		FRANK (CONT'D)
	We're all dying, Mary Burke.

He leans as if to kiss her.

		MARY
	This is not a good time.

		FRANK
	There's no time.

He places his hand on her shoulder, kisses her lightly, walks
toward Walls and the waiting ambulance.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. FIRST AVE--NIGHT

16 XRay is cooking now--Walls at the wheel, Frank shotgun,
passing a pint of whiskey back and forth: radio blasting--
INXS: "The Devil Inside."

		WALLS
          Get ready, Frank. Missed a drug
	shooting while you were dicking around
	in there. There's gonna be trauma
	tonight!

		FRANK
	As long as we keep moving. No standing
	still.

		WALLS
               (keys mike)
	C'mon, look at your screen. Give up
	some blood!

 	           DISPATCHER
	Sixteen XRay, a man at the bus
	terminal shot three years ago says
	his arm hurts.

Frank looks at a group of girls exiting an after-hours club:
every one a Rose. Rose faces.

		FRANK
          C'mon, Tom, pick up a job.

		WALLS
	You want some bum in the bus terminal?
	We'll wait for a real call.

		FRANK
	Let's get in a fight, then.

		WALLS
	Who with?

		FRANK
	That's your job. Just keep driving,
	keep moving. No stopping. We're
	sharks. We stop too long, we die.

Walls hits the accelerator: the old bus jerks forward:

		FRANK (CONT'D)
          Let's break something, Tom. Let's
	bust something, bomb something.

		WALLS
	What do you want to break?

		FRANK
 	    (taking a drink)
          I don't know--let's break some
          windows.

		WALLS
	Why?

		FRANK
	Destruction, distraction. I feel the
	need.

		WALLS
          You need a reason, Frank. You don't
	just go around breaking people's
	windows. That's anarchy.

 		 FRANK
	What's the reason? Give me a reason,
	Tom.

		WALLS
	Let me think.

Tom hits the siren as he swings wildly around a stopped cab
and its turban-headed driver:

		WALLS (CONT'D)
          Classic cabbie move.
 	    (to driver)
          Hey, swammy, that's called a
	crosswalk. You stop before it, not
	on it!

Walls turns onto a cross street, spots Noel standing by a
Mustang, baseball bat on his shoulder. He wears yesterday's
blood-stained clothes, cut tires tied to his shoulders and
elbows, chest and belly wrapped with steel wire.

		WALLS (CONT'D)
          I know who to work over. Him.

Walls slows as Noel lifts the bat, swings it into the
Mustang's front window, shattering it, puts the bat down,
using it like a cane as he walks to the next parked car.

		WALLS (CONT'D)
	This guy's been terrorizing the
          neighborhood for weeks, ever since
          he got outta jail, wreaking general
	havoc, contributing to the bad name
	of the place. The term "menace to
	society" was made up for him.

		FRANK
	He's crazy. He can't help it.

		WALLS
 	    (stops ambulance)
	Well, why don't they put him away?
	Prisons don't want him. I took him
	to the hospital yesterday and here
	he is again.

Noel reaches the next car, a Bronco, carefully hefts the
bat, smashes it through the windshield.

		WALLS (CONT'D)
	Look at that. Tell me that's a crazy
	person. Every move is calculated. He
	knows exactly what he's doing. This
	is the guy. I've been after him for
	weeks. He's quick, runs like a rat,
	tough for one person, but with two
	of us--

		FRANK
	Okay, whatta I do?

		WALLS
	If he sees me, he'll run, so I'll
	get out here. You start talking to
	him about baseball or something while
	I sneak around behind and get down
	and you push him. When he falls we
	get him.

		FRANK
	That's ridiculous.

		WALLS
	Believe me, it always works. The
	simpler, the better.

		FRANK
	You learn that in the army?

		FRANK (CONT'D)
	Flatbush.

Walls slips out, crouches beside the bus. Frank, stepping
out, walks over to Noel as he whacks the bat through the
hatch of a Pinto.

		FRANK (CONT'D)
	That's a hell of a swing you got
	there, Noel. I'm thinking Strawberry
	in his prime.

		NOEL
	Strawberry ain't shit. Drug pussy.
 	    (heads for the next
		car)
	Me.  I swing like Reggie. Mr. 
	October. Number three, game six,
	World Series.

Noel hauls back, lays into a Volvo: glass shatters. Noel
holds the bat out, extends handle towards Frank:

		NOEL (CONT'D)
	Here, you try.

		FRANK
	No, I'd better not.

		NOEL
	Sure, sure, give go.

		FRANK
	Yeah?

Frank, intrigued by Noel's suggestion, has forgotten Walls'
plan. He takes the bat as Tom sneaks behind Noel, crouching.

		FRANK (CONT'D)
	What the hell.
               (spits into hands)
	The next year, tiebreaker for the
	division, in Boston, Yanks down two
	to nothing, Bucky Dent steps to the
	plate.

		NOEL
	Oh man, Bucky.

 	 	FRANK
	The pitch, high heater. Bucky knows
	what's coming. He steps in, smash,
	over the green monster.

Frank cocks the baseball bat, relishing every moment, swings
into the Volvo's side window. Shattered glass flies on his
hands and clothes.

Walls, fed up with this, stands:

		WALLS
          Frank, what the hell are you doing?

Noel, seeing Walls, grabs the bat, flees down an alley.

		WALLS (CONT'D)
	You go down those stairs there. Meet
	me back here if you can't find him
	in ten minutes. Call out if you see
	him. Get with the program, Frank.

Walls takes off after Noel. Frank, taking out his flashlight,
enters second alley, walks down dark stairs which hopefully
circle around to Noel.

				         CUT TO:

INT. ALLEY--NIGHT

Mini-flashlight leading the way, Frank steps gingerly down
the refuse-strewn alley. Ahead: footsteps.

He kicks something, thinking it's trash, looks down; a body
rustles, pair of sleeping eyes look up.

Suddenly everything seems silent. He passes a row of glowing
red doors. Shadows flash in the distance. He hears a woman
crying, shoots his flashlight her direction: nothing.

Frank hears the voice again: Rose's voice:

		ROSE'S VOICE
          Why did you kill me, Frank?

		FRANK
	I didn't mean to.

		ROSE'S VOICE
	You should have helped me.

        	    FRANK
	I tried to help. I wanted to.

Shadows like hands extend against the wall ahead.

		ROSE'S VOICE
	Don't you love me?

Frank moves toward the reaching arms. The shadows swing like
baseball bats. Noel SCREAMS.

Suddenly, before him, a blurry mass of bloody dreadlocks--
Noel goes flying to the ground, Walls standing over him
swinging the bat, hitting him, killing him.

		WALLS
	I got him, Frank!

Frank stands back, watching Walls and Noel like some static
black and white TV screen from his childhood. Noel, trying
to protect himself, cries out.

		WALLS (CONT'D)
		(swinging bat)
	To the moon, Alice! You little
	motherfucker!

Frank charges forward into Walls, sending Tom, the baseball
bat flying. Walls on the ground. Frank bends over Noel: Noel's
face covered with blood, gasping for air, blowing red bubbles,
convulsing.

		FRANK
		(to Walls)
	Get the kit! We're gonna tube him!

		WALLS
	Frank!

		FRANK
	Do it!

		WALLS
		(standing)
	Frank!

		FRANK
		(to Noel)
	We're gonna save you, Noel. You're
	gonna be all right.
 	    (to Walls)
	Do it, Tom! I'll call for fucking
	backup, I swear!

		WALLS
	You're crazy.

 Noel unconscious: Tom hurries down the alley toward the
 ambulance as Frank opens Noel's mouth.

		FRANK
	You're going to make it! You're going
	to make it!

 Pressing Noel's chest, Frank lowers his mouth, starts CPR.
 His mouth to Noel's. In the distance: Walls' footsteps
 returning.

				         CUT TO:

 EXT. MERCY EMERGENCY--NIGHT

 16 XRay parked out front: the sky is going blue.

				         CUT TO:

 INT. MERCY ER--NIGHT

 Frank and Tom, their shirts blood-stained, pushing Noel down
 Skid Row, past Griss, past Nurse Constance. Tom wheels, Frank
 carries the IV bag.

		NURSE CONSTANCE
	Take him straight through.

		GRISS
          Who got that funky motherfucker this
	time?

		FRANK
 	    (to Nurse Constance)
	Last show of the night.

 	 	HAZMAT
 	    (arriving)
	Jesus Christ. Nurse Crupp!
		(to Frank)
	Anybody else hurt?

		FRANK
	No.

		HAZMAT
	Crazy fucker.

Walls pushes Noel into unit one. Frank looks over to unit
three--Burke's cubicle is empty.

		FRANK
          Where's Burke?

		HAZMAT
	Upstairs. 212. Had to shock him twice
	more.

Frank nods, walks out. Behind, Walls helps Hazmat and Crupp
place Noel on a bed.

				         CUT TO:

INT. ROOM 212--NIGHT

Frank Pierce walks down the hospital corridor, steps into
room 212.

Burke lies, tubed, wired and tied to life support. Blue light
comes through the window. On the EKG monitor: a slow steady
green endless line: up, down.

Frank takes a moment, exhales.

One by one, Frank flips off the machines. The clanging EKG
ALARM is followed by the bass honking of the respirator alarm
and two tweetering IV-drip alarms.

Frank, holding Burke's pulse, watches the life go out of
him. Hearing commotion outside, Frank flips the machines
back on: the EKG monitor is flatline.

A FLOOR NURSE rushes in, feels for Burke's pulse.

		FLOOR NURSE
          What happened?
 	    (calling out)
	Code!

Frank steps back as the Nurse hits the emergency switch.

		FLOOR NURSE (CONT'D)
	Are we doing CPR?

Dr. Hazmat, out of breath, enters:

		FLOOR NURSE (CONT'D)
	He coded.

		HAZMAT
	Christ, what a way to start the day.
	He's in V-fib. Shock him.

Frank pulls out the paddles, applies them to Burke's chest:

		FLOOR NURSE
	Clear!

Frank, knowing it's futile, shocks Burke: no result.

		HAZMAT
	Zap him again.

Frank goes through the motions, pretending to shock Burke.
The flatline doesn't waver.

 		      HAZMAT (CONT'D)
          Nothing. Get the cart, start
	compressions, get an epinephrine in.

Frank backs out the door as a nurse and intern enter.

In the corridor Frank listens as the activity becomes less
urgent.

Hazmat steps out:

		HAZMAT (CONT'D)
          That's enough. I called it. Let's
	get some coffee.
 	    (to Frank)
	You gonna tell the family?

Frank nods.

				         CUT TO:

EXT. MERCY EMERGENCY--DAYBREAK

Frank walks out of Our Lady of Mercy, heads down the side
street. He passes Tom Walls wielding a giant flashlight,
smashing Sixteen XRay's headlights, denting the hood and
side windows.

		WALLS
	Die!

						CUT TO:

EXT. MARY'S APT. BUILDING--DAY

Frank rings the buzzer. Mary, sleepy-voiced, answers:

		MARY (O.S.)
	Who is it?

		FRANK
	Frank.

		MARY (O.S.)
	Come on up.

						CUT TO:

INT. FIRST FLOOR--DAY

Mary, wearing a burgundy robe, opens the door. Frank says
nothing. Her expression darkens.

Frank looks at her again: it's not Mary, it's Rose. Mary has
Rose's face.

   	         FRANK
          He's dead, Rose. Your father passed.

 	 	ROSE/MARY
	How can that be? He was getting
	better.

 	 	FRANK
	He coded. They shocked him one too
	many times. I'm sorry.

		ROSE/MARY
	He was tough. You did all you could.

		       FRANK
	I'm sorry.

		ROSE/MARY
	You have to keep the body going until
	the brain and heart recover enough
	to go on their own.

Frank nods.

		ROSE/MARY (CONT'D)
	Would you like to come in?

		FRANK
	Yes.

Rose/Mary opens the door wider, closes it behind Frank.

				         CUT TO:

INT. MARY'S BEDROOM--DAY

Rose is Mary again: she and Frank lie clothed on her bed. He
leans his head against her breast as she holds him. His eyes
close: sleep.

				         THE END
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