In the Shadow of the Moon

Okay, see you tomorrow.

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From Independence Mall, this is news radio, KYW Philadelphia ten--

Absolute chaotic scene behind me right now at this intersection,

where just earlier this evening

a bus driver collided with several oncoming vehicles,

-one of them a cement mixer. - All right, here we go.

A huge mess on the scene here right now.

We're still not clear as to what exactly happened here,

whether the driver passed out while operating the vehicle

or simply died at the wheel.

We don't have a cause of death at this point,

but some of our medical experts are talking about the fact

that it could've been a heart attack

-or a stroke. -Mmm, perfect pancake!

We don't have a name on the driver, no information at all.

Police have not released that at this point.

-Next of kin still being notified. -

But no other casualties reported,

-which is a minor miracle. -Fuck.

Speaking with some of the officers here on the scene...

Fuck.

Shit.

-Shit. -There could have been more fatalities

is what these officers are saying to me. Uh, we...

You burned 'em again, didn't you?

No! No, no, nothing's burnt.

Ah, come on.

- -

Yes, I'll be right out.

Ah, Jesus.

Hey, hey, baby.

- Hmm. -Hey.

Was that Maddox?

Yeah. I gotta go soon.

I feel like a piñata.

How's my baby girl?

Kicking up a storm.

Feels like she got your big feet.

Maybe I'll pick up some Doc Martens on the way out.

Come on up.

-Here. -Ah.

Had that weird pregnancy dream again.

Oh, no.

We were still on the beach, but a little different this time.

I couldn't see you, but I knew you were with me,

like how sometimes you just know things like that in a dream.

Honey, you seen my other shoe?

Your shoes are under the bed.

Go on, I'm listening.

So we were standing in the shallow water,

and we were playing that game like you play as a kid.

When the tide would go back out

you'd twist a little and...

and sink lower into the wet sand.

I just kept sinking down and down,

and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get up.

-Tommy? - What?

You make the worst pancakes.

I've gotta go, okay?

I love you, Tommy Lockhart.

I love you more.

But these graveyard shifts are the worst.

I'm tired of having breakfast for dinner.

And they're almost over, okay?

-Detective's around the corner. - Mm-hmm.

But I'll bring you something back to make up for it.

Oh, promises promises.

So, I pinky swear.

-I look forward to being proven wrong. -Deal.

With the shot clock winding down, Barkley coming up short once again.

Another good night of rebounding for Charles, but not enough buckets.

Come on, Barkley.

Shit.

About time.

Yeah.

- Now the Sixers playoff-- -

-Hey, come on, I wanna see how it ends. -

Huh, Winston Maddox, you got some amount of money riding on this tonight?

Shit.

- Yeah? -Don't do it.

And that's all she wrote, folks.

Philadelphia loses a heartbreaker to Atlanta, 103 to 101.

Well, there you go.

Thanks for that.

How much?

Thought most folks think about moving out of white trash neighborhoods.

Yeah, yeah. Trust me, I'm working on it.

You know, the first perp that ever took a swing at me was two blocks that way.

Oh, yeah. You never mentioned it.

Yeah, you're all jokes now, but you've got a pregnant wife back there, pal.

Trust me, I know.

Back pain, feet the size of a kitchen sink.

She's cranky, she's hungry...

Yeah, I remember those days.

But hey, maybe you can find the guy that knocked her up

-and make him deal with it. - Fuck you.

All right, what do we got?

We've got a big pile-up downtown.

The city bus?

That's bridge traffic. That's gonna be, I don't know, 30 minutes?

Ten spot says I'll get us there in 20.

I'll take that.

Oh, 22 minutes. You owe me ten.

Shit.

I want a recount.

Oh, fuck. Holt's here.

You know, when he, uh, dry cleans his ties, it's full starch.

What a dick.

-Hey, that's my wife's brother. -Tell me he's not a dick.

-Maintain a safe distance at all times. -Keep it clear over there!

This whole thing is nuts. You should've seen the bus driver.

-You would have loved it. -Yeah? Why?

Oh, trust me, she's a doozy.

No, man, don't do it.

-Don't do it. You know how Holt gets. -I'll just take a peek.

Is a normal, boring shift too much to ask?

Blood's not from her injury.

- -You got some gloves?

You got a detective badge?

I'll bum you a smoke.

Oh, God, do you smell that?

Severe hemorrhage...

then hit hard on the steering wheel.

Yeah, but why the hemorrhage?

- -What the fuck?

Empty.

Whoa, don't touch that.

Pieces of brain.

Goddamn.

Who invited you two to the party?

Officers, I'm gonna need you to dust all this broken glass for fingerprints.

I'm just fucking with you.

Yeah.

So how's my sis? She about to explode?

Yeah, any day. Uh, you know, these are--

Chunks of brain.

Yep, we solved that one, Crockett.

Yeah? What about that?

Uh, birthmark.

Maybe a rash.

Looks like a puncture wound.

Sure, sharp glass.

Boys across town just caught two more bodies.

Bled out: ears, nose, mouth.

They said both had some kind of mark on their neck.

A whole lot of birthmarks.

Pump your brakes, all right? You've had your five minutes.

Come on.

Nah.

We're not gonna go.

We're gonna stay here. We'll relax.

Find our center.

Practice our breathing.

Plenty of people can stand behind tape, yell at reporters. Come on.

I'll drive!

Come on.