Colony

It's gonna be another boring, beautiful day today

in Los Angeles with a high of 70.

Hey, Bram.

Can I have two?

How 'bout an egg and some cereal, huh?

Two eggs for you, yeah, Gracie?

Eggs are gross.

Eggs are not gross.

Eggs are just un-hatched baby chickens.

Ugh.

Oh.

Damn it.

You okay?

All good.

I'll just have some cereal.

- Here you go. - Thanks, baby.

Mr. Bram, sir.

Here's your list. Now what do I say?

Bring oranges and staples only?

Amazing.

Love you. Good morning.

Good morning. You stink. Or is it you? You stink.

You stink.

He's a good kid.

They're all good kids.

Got to go to work.

Bye.

Be safe.

Bye, you.

Love you.

You take care of them, okay?

New transportation passes are required

by the fifth of the month, so be sure to pick yours up.

What about you, Carlos?

What are you gonna do when this is all over?

Go see my family.

Yeah, and bore them to death. Come on.

This is supposed to be a fantasy.

Sully's got a better answer.

I'm gonna leave this garage, you idiots, and never come back.

I'm gonna grab the kids, hit the the Santa Monica pier,

and eat in-n-out burgers till we puke.

Doesn't anybody want to go somewhere exotic?

Australia? Thailand?

Just a lot of stupid daydreaming.

Come on. My pop says this will all be over by Christmas.

Pop's been drinking too much moonshine.

Parker's got something good. I know it.

You all right, Parko?

My brother got sent up.

Factory.

Word came in last night.

This is the worst part of it, you know?

It's families.

Husbands separated from wives. Parents from children.

Thank God we can take

a lot worse if it wasn't for that.

Rat bastards.

Why don't you come with me?

I'm not that guy.

But uh, you do something for me?

Contacts.

My mom and my brothers.

I just want to make sure that they're okay,

that they know that I'm okay.

Hey.

Good luck, hermano.

Careful.

Oh, no, no. You're kidding me.

- Morning. - ID, please.

Yeah.

Destination?

Santa Monica gateway. Parts delivery.

What are you carrying?

Fuel cells.

You're clear.

You're late, Sully.

Payment's in the van.

Go on, check it.

Here's your Santa Monica ID. Give me your LA one.

You'll be my 38th run. You've got nothing to worry about.

You're gonna want to put that on.

Hop in.

Two kind of guys roll through here.

Guys running to something, guys running from something.

Which are you?

I'm going to find my son.

We were separated during the arrival.

How old?

He turned 12 last week.

Mm.

You have entered the exclusion zone.

Remain inside your vehicle until otherwise directed.

What's it like in Santa Monica?

About the same,

but with a beach.

Come in.

Hold. That's good.

Okay, we're a go for scan.

ID.

All right, let's go.

Los Angeles drivers to Containment Area.

Los Angeles drivers to Containment Area.

Scanner's are infrared?

My box kills x-ray and thermal.

They won't see shit.

_

Santa Monica drivers to your trucks.

Santa Monica drivers to your trucks.

How do we know the replacement drivers won't sell us out?

They'll never know we were here.

Spider's got you co...

Freeze!

Hands where I can see them!

- Do it now. - Keep your hands up.

Get 'em up! Move!

On your knees!

Move him out!

Put your hands

behind your head!

Come on, Minnie.

_

- Move along. - Sorry.

- Get down! - Shit! What is this?

- You! Come here. - What are you doing?

I haven't done anything! You can't do this! Please!

All right, Minnie.

Hi.

You can't bring the dog.

With thousands of full- and part-time jobs available,

there's more than one way to be the best.

Right here. Right through here.

Thank you.

Hi, are you Heloise?

I am. What can I do for you, dear?

I heard you make insulin.

You are correct.

Come on.

Certain conditions are deemed unworthy for treatment.

Diabetes is one of them.

Reps are culling weakness from the herd.

Existing supplies of insulin are nearly gone.

And no one's making any home-brewed solutions.

That is, except Old Heloise.

In 1922, this Canadian guy figured out

how to extract insulin from the pancreas of a canine.

You made insulin from a dog?

When an artist finds herself in doubt,

she should consult with the old masters.

I need to see what you have to trade first.

This has to be kept cold. It's way too hot in here.

And it's cloudy.

What do you think you're doing?

I'm not buying your shitty insulin.

Oh, I believe you already did.

- That's... - A trade is a trade.

Put it down.

Let's go, right now.

Right now.

Put it down.

I'm just leaving. Come on.

Put your hands up.

Let her go.

Are you damn crazy, lady?

One of those drones finds you with a gun,

they're going to kill us all.

Then let me go!

Let her go.

Shit, sorry.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

You're gonna stay right there.

All right, relax.

Stand back.

Come on, Minnie.

- Anyone need oranges? - I have canned tuna.

What's the expiration?

One orange per?

Two.

How about one and a half?

I'll take two cans.

My mom made tortillas.

Oh, my God, best in LA. Here, give her these.

I don't think this is a fair trade.

- All right, who's got coffee? - Yeah, right.

What the shit is this?

You need oranges, Jackson?

This market is mine.

No trading goes on without me getting my beak wet.

You should report me to the Red Hats.

Your backpack.

Your backpack, shit-heel.

Your beak's wet.

- Five-oh. - Let's go.

Hey, you over there.

Hey!

Where's my phone call?

Let me out of here!

Don't waste your breath, brother.

These collaborating assholes cannot do shit for you.

Let me out!