Logan

Part 8

REAVER TRUCK-- HIGHWAY PULL OUT - SUNSET

CLOSE ON -- AN IV connected to Caliban's pale skin. A man's fingers delicately adjust the drip.

RED-HAIRED MAN (O.S.): In the 1950's, in an effort to increase honey production in the tropics, a Brazilian research team cross-bred the European Honeybee, Apis mellifera, the classic model, and a heartier stronger African variety, Apis mellifera capensis.

Caliban opens his eyes and looks up at THE RED-HAIRED MAN. His manner is soft, warm. His voice seductive, smooth.

RED-HAIRED MAN: These hybrid bees were stronger and aggressive to be sure, but despite their fortitude, they made no honey at all, nor assist in pollination. In the lab, they did little, in fact, besides killing other bees.

THE MAN sits close to CALIBAN, shining a pin light on his lesions, in his ears. Examining. He smiles.

RED-HAIRED MAN: The researchers wanted to help mankind, but instead, they created monsters. And before they could correct their error, a few escaped to the wild. And these bees formed a swarm and spread across Brazil and multiplied, moving up the continent, killing men women and children. Even worse, these killer hybrids threatened the viability of the worldwide bee population and subsequently, human survival. (Suddenly brightens) Oh, the price of progress.

Caliban's eyes flick out the window where -- Pierce talks with his remaining Reavers.

RED-HAIRED MAN: My colleague tells me you have been somewhat resistant. He believes you are dispensing delayed information, allowing your friends to stay one step ahead.

CALIBAN: Please let me be...

RED-HAIRED MAN: I'm offering an opportunity, Caliban. To redeem yourself, to protect the world, and, in the process, save your friends.

Caliban just looks back at him. Shudders.

RED-HAIRED MAN: The girl is a rather small price to pay for that. Unlike you, she is. She wasn't made by nature. She's a mistake of my own. A killer bee who's escaped from the hive. And I need to get her back before she stings. The boy is a like a god a power beyond itself and is known for being devastating in the wrong hands, so I need him back also to control that power.

CALIBAN: What do you want from me?! I did what I could, and your human toaster ovens fucked it all up.

The man smiles.

RED-HAIRED MAN: I agree the Reavers have not been effective. I'm bringing new tools to bear. But I still need someone to point us in the right direction.

CALIBAN: No, no, no. I can't keep--

RED-HAIRED MAN: Breathe. Breathe. What does he have, the old man, your friend? Alzheimer's? ALS? A degenerative brain disease in the world's most dangerous brain. What a combo.

The man considers Caliban a moment, then reaches in his bag.

DR. RICE: You pay a high price for your gifts, my friend. Too bad you and I didn't meet years ago. I could have saved you some pain. I have something for your blisters. (Pulling a vial of creme) My name is Dr. Rice, by the way. (Meets his eyes) You can call me Zander if you like.

FARMHOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT

The Munson family and the "Howlett" family all sit around a table covered with food, heads bowed as the son says grace. All except Laura and (Y/N) who looks around at the family pictures, the religious decorations (they are everywhere), the warm furnishings. Another strange place.