Blade Page #5

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CURTIS WEBB, the forensic pathologist (30s, white bread, a little on

the smarmy side) steps forward, unzips the bag --

It's Quinn, what's left of him, anyway. Burnt to a charcoal

briquette, limbs twisted horribly, oozing fluids.

Curtis turns his head, grimacing, wafting the air.

CURTIS:

Jesus, that's rank --

Curtis turns back, makes note of the blackened stump where Quinn's

arm used to be, the ruined throat --

CURTIS:

What's his story?

ASSISTANT:

Paramedics said he was still screaming

when they found him. Looks like some

joker had stapled him to a wall.

CURTIS:

Pretty.

CUT TO:

INT. HOSPITAL, HEMATOLOGY LAB - NIGHT

MICROSCOPE POV:

of a slide-mounted blood smear stained with Wright stain (blue ink).

What we see is a collection of donut-shaped pink things (red blood

cells) intermingled with some small blue specks (platelets) and the

occasional larger, light-blue blobs (white blood cells).

KAREN JANSEN (20s), a fine-featured hematologist with a social life

in suspended animation, sits back from the microscope, stumped. Next

to her is JULIE WHITAKER, a cheerful chemtech.

KAREN:

You took this off a DOA?

Curtis sits on a stool nearby, slowly nodding.

KAREN:

This isn't human blood.

CURTIS:

Then what is it?

KAREN:

I don't know --

(re:
microscope)

Look at this blood smear --

Curtis takes a look for himself.

KAREN:

The red blood cells are biconvex,

which is theoretically impossible.

They're hypochromic, there's virtually

no hemoglobin in them.

(shaking her head)

Look at the PMNs, they're binucleated,

they should be mononucleated.

CURTIS:

What about the chemistry panel?

Karen looks to Julie, who reaches for a computer print-out.

JULIE:

Blood sugar level is three times the

norm, phosphorous and uric acid are

off the scales.

(shrugs)

Like the woman said, impossible.

Karen removes her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

KAREN:

Curtis, it's three in the morning. I'm

really not in the mood for one of your

practical jokes.

CURTIS:

(insistent)

It's not a joke. I've got the stiff

sitting in the morgue right now --

look, just come up and see him, okay?

Five minutes, that's all I ask.

KAREN:

I thought you promised to give me some

distance?

CURTIS:

This is purely professional curiosity,

Karen, I swear.

Karen rolls her eyes, lets loose a tired sigh.

KAREN:

Five minutes, not a second more. And I

don't want to hear a word about "us".

CURTIS:

No problem.

INT. HOSPITAL MORGUE - NIGHT

The dead of night, not a mouse in the house. Curtis and Karen, each

garbed in a mask, stand on either side of Quinn's body, which now

rests on the autopsy table.

QUINN'S BODY

A preliminary exploratory Y-incision has been made across the chest,

stretching from shoulder to shoulder, then continuing on down the

abdomen. Ribs and cartilage have been cut open to expose the heart

and lungs.

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