The Shards

Can we light some candles or something, you know?

Make it a little more romantic. Since this is a double date?

- Ooh, that's a nice idea. - Thanks.

I'd like to keep the lights on.

And maybe we should, you know, move the party inside.

Why?

The home invasions. There was another one last Sunday night.

And the houses were dark when the home invasions happened?

I mean, that's why people broke in?

I don't know, but I'm assuming with the lights on, it's a deterrent.

A deterrent.

- A deterrent. - Whoever is doing it

also steals people's pets, their cats, their dogs.

Uses them ritualistically.

Do you remember, Susan,

the school mascot on the first day of school?

- Cult. - Another girl is missing, too.

- Who? - Julie Selwyn from Marymount.

It's been almost eight weeks since she disappeared.

Maybe she just ran away.

Okay, guys, let's stop trying to creep ourselves out.

I wanna talk about the party.

- The party? - Yes.

I'm going to throw a party for Robert Mallory.

It's going to be at my house,

and I think we should all throw it together, the four of us, to welcome him.

And we'll invite everyone in our senior class.

- Totally awesome. - Cool. Fun. Love it.

Wait, why?

Why throw him a party?

I think we should make him feel welcome.

I think he had some hard times, and I think he needs to feel welcome.

Hard times?

What were the hard times?

I was in Principal Croft's office yesterday…

He spent some time in a developmental center working on his…

Dr. Croft asked me to throw this party.

He said he was worried about Robert

and that my responsibility as student body president

was to make everyone feel as welcome as possible.

I totally agree.

- It seems that… - What?

Robert was institutionalized.

In an asylum? You've got to be kidding me.

Croft said it was more of a developmental center.

He was treated for depression and some other issues.

Great. So the guy's been locked away in a loony bin.

That's a little dramatic, Bret. You always embellish everything.

- I'm a writer. It's my job. - Look, no biggie.

The guy went through some shit,

his parents' divorce and whatnot, his mother's death.

I feel sorry for him.

Robert Mallory needs a friend and I intend to be one.

- Me too. - Me three.

Wanna toot, Thommy?

No thanks, Debs. I gotta get up early tomorrow to practice.

- So that'll keep your body tight? - I'm already tight.

- I'm keeping it tight. - You know what? I feel like some red wine.

- Anyone for a nice cab? - Please.

He's a liar, guys.

He lied about seeing me at the movie theater

last summer during The Shining . I do not trust him and neither should you.

Bret, it's just a party.

No, Susan, it's a validation.

Hey, guys, it's getting a little tense in here.

- Maybe we should hot-tub it. - Let's hot-tub it. Come on.

Let's go to the hot tub. Okay? Come on.

Come on.

Look, we were in a mall. Remember?

No.

Oh, no.

What's that? The killer?

Bret, please become a wino.

You are so much more fun when you drink.

Okay, so we'll do a Saturday.

My house. Robert's party.

- It's settled. Settled. - It's settled.

- What? - Scheduled.

Guys, just to state the facts.

He followed me to the mall.

That's funny because he told me that you were the one following him.

How do you know? Did you talk to him?

Oh, my God!

I love this song.

Turn it up!

Whoo. Go, Susan.

Are we getting a show? Whoo.

Yes! Susan.

Oh, Thom. You're in for it. You're in for it.

- Prepare. - She's right behind me?

Oh.

Come.

Come on, give us choreography.

Oh, Bret, please get drunk every night.

Hi, sexy.

You were amazing last night.

I was, wasn't I?

Matt called.

- Who? - Matt.

From school?

What did he want?

Oh, you were so knocked out, I didn't wanna wake you.

He said to stop calling.

What's that supposed to mean?

No idea.

I'll see you tonight.

One of the hallmarks of the early 1980s

for a young person in Los Angeles

was you had to survive things to become an adult.

Real-life boogeymen known as serial killers were a threat.

And so were cults.

The cult that terrorized Los Angeles in 1981,

when I was a senior in high school,

was bloodthirsty, terrifying and had similar habits to The Trawler.

In fact,

law enforcement would suspect that this cult was involved in The Trawler murders

and that the vicious ritualist killings plaguing the city

were done not by one member, but by several.

The city had never truly recuperated

from the Manson killings a decade earlier.

And like Charlie and the Manson girls,

the Riders of the Afterlife, as they called themselves,

reigned from Ojai to the San Fernando Valley.

This group of young,

barely-articulate hippies formed out in the Mojave,

acolytes of a leader only referred to as Bruce,

who turned out to be a high school English teacher from Lancaster,

fired due to sexual improprieties with female students.

The cult did drugs, acid, tranquilizers

and their activities quickly accelerated that year

as Bruce became more addicted and messianic.

Yeah.

Well, maybe I should ask for the recipe so that I can make it for you.

Honey?

Oh, my God.

Is that blood?

Go inside and call the police.

Then came break-ins in Hancock Park and Silver Lake.

They wanted to unify through fear.

And then things got worse.

The home invasions escalated to violence.

The victims who survived those early attacks

said the intruder wore a black ski mask and matching jeans and turtleneck.

He was a terrifying shape-shifter.

And then the first murder occurred.

…as authorities continue to hunt for The Trawler,

the serial killer targeting young people throughout Los Angeles.

Police fear The Trawler will strike again.

Police are warning residents throughout Los Angeles to remain vigilant.

A gruesome discovery in Brentwood tonight after a home invasion turned deadly.

Between nightly news reports of The Trawler murders,

two other young people were now missing,

and then reports of the Riders of the Afterlife attacks.

The city was on edge and so was I.

Every night, I kept thinking I heard someone in the house.

I was at my desk working on my novel,

and whenever I stopped typing I would feel a presence

either lurking outside the house

or somewhere within it.

A number of times I thought I heard the doorbell

or the chiming that announced the garage doors opening.

For weeks I crept through the house clutching a weapon.

But no one was there.

Not yet.

But I could tell they were coming.

Goddamn it, Liz.

Mom!

Mom!

That's my Lancôme.

You're not allowed to wear eye shadow at school.

I'm going out.

I'm almost done.

I'm going to La Scala with Joanie Carson and Jackie Collins.

Going out with Bret tonight again?

Yes, Mother, we're in love.

Being with each other whenever you can is what being in love looks like. Remember?

You wanna look good for your man. I get it.

Oh, honey.

Men.

All your meaningless flirtations you think will get you somewhere

- and make you happy. - Just give me the compact

and have another Chablis, Mom.

There's just so much you don't know about them.

There's just so much you don't know.

I know you're so cool and so clever

and so naive about so many things.

- You're so jealous. - Jealous?

Jealous of the trainer at the stables?

That dumb guy your father cast in that absurd roller-disco movie?

And now Bret?

- What's wrong with Bret? - He's very aloof.

And seemed more interested in that book he's writing

than coming to his girlfriend's party

and staying like a gentleman through the movie.

Well, he came, didn't he?

We had sex before he left.

And how was that?

A change of pace?

Just focus on getting Dad to wanna touch you again.