Previously on iZombie...
We need to be seen as part of this community.
Not an occupying force.
We are an occupying force.
There's no such thing
as improving human-zombie relations,
the clock is ticking.
You tell your boss that Freylich brains equals zombie cures,
and suddenly these poor kids will be hunted.
These are cures for the zombie disease.
Mr. Mayor.
You ready?
Oh, my God, I can feel it.
I'm human again.
Al Bronson, Bluster magazine?
So how's that new opening paragraph coming?
I actually don't quite have a handle on the opening paragraph.
You're maybe a more complex character than I thought.
_
That was a song I didn't pay for.
Because I am Harris Burrows.
Seattle's onliest pirate radio practitioner.
The best to DIY it since Christian Slater.
Ahoy-hoy, we've got a caller.
Caller, go.
Harris.
- You rock! - As do you, brother.
We should party. How's tonight?
My place? And you know what?
Bring everyone.
And what the hell, for the 27th time in a row,
let's make it '80s themed.
Harris out.
Harris, what up?
Begging your pardon, milady.
But I believe you're off-theme?
You said '80s.
You never specified the century.
I stand corrected.
Bring 'em in.
I don't mind your ex showing up.
But can he at least make an effort to
look like he doesn't want to murder me?
Didn't he get the memo? People love me.
Last question.
By your own account, you've had a checkered past,
so what's the difference between who you were then
and who you are now?
You held that one till I was half a bottle deep.
Now? I'm needed.
I'm appreciated.
People stop me on the street just to shake my hand.
That kind of thing never happened to the man I was before.
It's not bad.
So, what's next?
- Politics? - Ha!
Do I really seem that depraved?
Mmm, jury's out.
Speaking of depravity in politics.
Word around the campfire is that
Mayor Baracus was a frequent guest of yours
at The Scratching Post.
What happened to "last question"?
Yeah, the man liked to party.
You know who killed him?
No, I wish I did.
Baracus left a huge tab.
Whoever did, owes me.
If I may turn the tables for a sec...
Are we ever gonna be anything more than just journalist-subject?
Well, I turn in the story on Thursday,
you won't be my subject after that.
Great.
Thursday, then.
Say, uh, 8:00?
Bring an appetite.
You cooking?
Food? I hadn't considered it.
Yeah.
Sure.
Why not?
Someone's blocking me in.
Yeah, it's the brat from next door.
Always trying to out-soiree me.
Hang tight.
Yo, there's someone at the door.
Dude, you're killing me, Hamm-bone.
You know this is a party, right?
You know I hate your punny little nicknames, right?
Do you find them too...
Hamm-fisted?
It's some old dude, he seems pissed.
Hi.
Is this your party?
And I'll cry if I want to.
Great. I'm gonna need the owner of the black Jeep
to go ahead and move it from the front of my driveway.
Mmm-mmm-hmm.
Lot of people here, old timer.
You're asking me to find a Jeep in a haystack.
If you really gotta get somewhere, I suggest a cab?
You can bill me.
I'm good for it.
Let's try this again.
Perhaps I should introduce myself.
Oh, no, no, I know who you are, man.
You used to play Doogie Howser?
I'm glad you're enjoying yourself.
You know what I enjoy?
Killing people who piss me off.
And that's not hyperbole.
If you don't get that car moved,
I will literally end your life.
Nod, if you understand.
Whoo-ah!
DJ, hit me.
Apache!
_
Now, these brains have to go directly into the tubes,
not the mixing vats. Are we clear?
I've worked at the plant since day one.
I know what I'm doing.
Good.
Hey.
What're you doing?
Hey, let me out.
Hey, hey, let me out!
Hey!
I'm a little foggy on the details,
but she heads to D.C. on Friday.
If anyone can talk the Pentagon out of nuking us,
it's Peyton.
Aren't we going in circles?
We've passed four bedrooms, three bathrooms,
an arcade room, a dark room,
and a radio room.
But no steam room.
Aw.
This might be my dream house.
I wonder what his parents do.
This isn't his parents' place.
Victim is Harris Burrows, 19, mom's deceased,
dad lives outside the wall.
The kid was independently wealthy.
This place is his.
Body's down there.
Oh, watch your step, somebody spilled Slippery Nipple.
Thanks.
Severe hypothermia.
Poor kid was cooked alive.
Screwed the door shut, sealed him in.
What an awful way to die.
Hold up, hold up.
So anyone this rich, you've gotta assume
- money's a motive. - Clive.
You may have a fractured vertebra.
You can't keep detectiving through a broken back.
You're not Batman.
You don't know that.
Eileen, who was that?
Amy O'Neil, victim's girlfriend.
Came over this morning and found him.
She claims last night, a neighbor, some old guy,
came by, complained about the party
and threatened Harris' life.
Which neighbor?
Can you guys roll me over?
No, no, no one's wheeling you anywhere.
You need medical attention.
We'll go.
Liv's an OG zombie.
I once took a kickboxing class, yeah?
Between the two of us, I think we can handle some doddering old crank.
And they say nobody just drops by anymore.
Did you threaten your neighbor's life last night?
I sure did.
He was being, um...
Insolent.
Well, he's dead now, so...
You're under arrest for murder.
_
Of course I don't seem upset.
I abhorred that kid.
Doesn't mean I killed him.
Well, it doesn't mean you didn't, either.
Now, wait a minute.
From a strictly rhetorical standpoint, I believe you're correct.
He's good.
You realize
that I'm going to eat the murder victim's brain, right?
I will find out if you killed him.
So the brain's still in his skull?
That really sound like my style to you?
You're a teen murderer, Blaine.
That's exactly your style.
Either way, what difference does it make?
We all know you can't lock me up.
Not when I'm the only thing keeping the city's zombies from starving.
I'm untouchable.
Guess again.
If you did this, you will pay for it.
Will I, though?
Yeah. You will.
Yeah, but...
Will I?
Ah, there she is.
Al Bronson of Bluster magazine.
Met Liv and Ravi.
From the Seattle P.D.
They just popped by to see if I committed a murder.
We do this every few months.
Al is short for Alice.
And alibi.
She was here all night.
And can confirm that so, too, was I.
Is that true?
Yep.
You'll show yourselves out.
So, with all due respect,
rumors persist on anti-zombie message boards
that CHICS is planning a coordinated blockade
of our dispensaries.
If this comes to pass,
how do we intend to respond?
Machetes.
Hand grenades.
Excellent, Commander.
That was a joke.
We'll have Lieutenant Collins prep the trucks
for mobile brain tube delivery.
And I'll get Captain...
um...
uh...
- Hobbs. - Hobbs, yes.
I'll get him to draw up prospective routes.
- And... - Mon Dieu, this is our food supply.
Any attempt to interfere with zombies
receiving that which sustains us must be put down by force.
An example must be made.
How about we don't seek out confrontation?
If the intel changes, we can reassess.
Why so glum, chum?
Aw, Isobel.
Paragraph four.
"Her mother however finds a silver lining
in Isobel's death from Freylich Syndrome."
Her death saved a life.
"Isobel's brain made a zombie human again."
Oh, no, this isn't your fault, Ravi.
You worked hard so that this wouldn't become public.
Didn't think to warn Isobel's mum though, did I?
Now Freylich kids across the country
have a price on their head.
CVC brass are going to try to kill the story but...
Okay, then. It's a local paper, no one's gonna pick it up.
How many brain dealers live in Boise?
Knock knock.
Sorry to barge in,
I just though you should know,
I'm not really an alibi for Blaine last night.
I did sleep there, but only because my car was blocked in.
We stayed in separate rooms. I have no idea
if he got up in the middle of the night to kill someone.
While I'm here, um...
Did I overhear you right earlier?
Blaine's killed teens before?
- Oh, well... - Uh, ish, that was a metaphor.
As I'm sure you know, once upon a time,
Blaine was a drug dealer. And as we all know,
drugs kill teens.
That they do.
You were the coroners who examined
Mayor Baracus when he was murdered, right?
Isn't Blaine under investigation for that murder, too?
Only because Baracus was always at Blaine's club.
Blaine was never linked to the murder itself.
Hmm.
Okay.
Thank you for your time.
Hmm.
I told you. Blaine killed Baracus!
I told you I thought so, too.
That means he also stole my cures.
Probably, but unless you want all the brains
to stop coming in to Seattle, there's nothing you can do about it.
Th-That's not how it's supposed to work.
Blaine lies,
cheats, steals, kills and prospers.
Meanwhile, I can't even prevent a bunch of dying kids
from being hunted like dogs.
I'll be in my office beating myself up mentally and emotionally.
What?
- What's that look? - I'm hatching a scheme.
I'm not in the mood, Liv.
I didn't ask, 'cause guess what?
I know how to heal your chakra, Barti.
We're gonna solve the case.
First of all, there'll be no further wordplay with my name.
And second,
I'm not really in the mood to play cop right now.
Ra! Ra-Ra.
You're gonna want in on this.
Okay? Clive's out this week with his back.
And you know what that means?
That this is Cavanaugh's case?
It means we can do whatever we want.
Like police harass the crap out of Blaine.
We can get a warrant for his big, fancy house.
We can ransack it.
Can I be the guy that takes a knife
and rips into his couch cushions?
Sure!
And after that,
I'll pull him in for an interrogation,
and you can beat him with a phone book.
You in?
Fine.
This is gonna be fun.
Take your time.
You know when you think you have a great idea,
and then you do it and it's not so great after all?
That's kind of what's happening here.
I see you.
I see you too, big guy.
You got some pain meds, did you?
- Mmm-hmm. - You earned them.
Phew.
We're just interviewing Harris' best friend Hamm.
- You want in? - Yes!
Hamm, this is Detective Babineaux.
He'll be joining us.
Oh.
Okay.
Hamm was just telling me how Harris came to be
independently wealthy so young.
- Bitcoin. - Bitcoin?
Pffft!
Um... Yeah.
Our freshman econ teacher
bought some to prove that it was a scam.
Harris disagreed, so...
Mr. Mooney dared Harris to put his money
where his mouth was and Harris did.
He took the cash that he was saving up to buy a car,
went all in on Bitcoin instead.
Mooney cashed out early, made a few bucks.
Harris cashed out at the peak,
made a mint.
- Ooh. - That's how life was for Harris.
Things just worked out for him.
Except, you know, getting murdered.
Ooh!
Uh, can you think of anyone else
that might have wanted to do Harris harm?
Well, the neighbor threatened to kill him.
Oh, we're all over that one.
Anyone else?
No.
Everyone loved him.
Except...
Maybe Amy's ex, Jaime.
Harris kind of stole her from him.
Jaime didn't take it so well.
Whoo!
Ooh!
He have a last name or an address?
Um, Jaime Ross.
I don't know where he lives, but,
there's a vigil at the high school later today.
Amy will be there, so he probably will, too.
Brain plant key-cards do not just go missing.
Find out who took them.
Are we missing any brains?
More tubes than normal? How can that be?
Just fix it.
Au revoir.
Sir, field report for J sector.
No suspicious human activity as of yet.
But there has been some odd zombie activity, sir.
What activity?
Confusion, disorientation, memory loss.
Reports are coming in from across the city.
One of my guys can't even do simple math,
like one digit addition.
It's weird.
How long before his memory lapse
did he last eat a brain tube?
An hour, maybe.
Huh.
Inspector, are we just gonna let CHICS get away
with blockading our brain dispensaries?
Perhaps not.
Ah, dismissed.
_
I'm not sure what happens after you die,
but I'm sure wherever Harris is,
he's partying hard, cooking up his next big scheme.
Cheering up someone who needs cheering up.
Hey.
If the Freylich story hasn't broken wide by now,
it's not going to.
So, buck up, buttercup.
You're bumming these kids out.
We're at a memorial.
And memorials are for celebrating the lives
of those you've lost.
And sometimes also for interrogating
the jealous ex of the victim's girlfriend.
Excuse me there, young fella,
you aren't a teacher here by any chance, are you?
I'm the Vice Principal actually, Lee Mooney.
Oh. Mooney?
I thought Mooney was an econ teacher.
Used to be.
So we hear Harris had you to thank for his cryptocurrency windfall.
I decided that if I could be out-invested by a 15-year-old,
I shouldn't be teaching economics.
Uh, we're with the Seattle P.D., we're looking for a Jaime Ross?
Jaime, yeah, uh...
I saw him earlier.
There he is.
...'cause he never wanted to let anyone take themselves too seriously.
Hey, Mr. Mooney, where you at?
Remember the time Harris put up a $1,000 prize
for the best impersonation of you?
Thank you.
Jaime, talk to me.
What's going on?
Who are you?
Jaime, hi.
I'm lead detective Moore with the Seattle P.D. and I...
Everything okay?
I don't know, he was fine a half hour ago.
Now he says he doesn't know me.
Uh...
Jaime.
I'm a doctor, I'm gonna take a look at you, okay?
All right.
All right, stay right there, mate.
Ah, pupils appear normal, no signs of head trauma.
But if he's got an alibi, we're not gonna hear it tonight.
We should probably get him to a hospital.
Can they help him? He's a zombie.
Wait, isn't he your ex-boyfriend?
As in before you started dating Harris,
who, you know, isn't a zombie?
I used to be a zombie, too.
"Used to be"?
Harris got me one of those black market cures.
Harris and I were together before the Aleutian Flu outbreak.
The cure brought us back together.
How long before taking the cure did you break up with Jaime?
Couple of weeks.
After I took the cure.
That must've taken your zombie boyfriend by surprise.
What is that?
Harris! I'm gonna end you!
Shh, you're gonna get us killed!
Harris painted those flames on Mooney's car.
I don't think he took Harris' pranks as lightly as he let on.
I mean, pardon my French, but dude was pissed.
Commander?
I have an issue that requires immediate attention.
Hey...
You?
Guard gate requested we send them six more soldiers.
They called back later
asked for two additional soldiers.
I cannot determine how many to send him in total.
Is that six plus two?
You... You figure that out.
You know, I think I have.
_
One doesn't "catch" dementia, it's not like a cold.
And zombies don't catch anything anyway.
You think he was faking it to avoid questioning?
That's what I...
- Oh, um... - What the hell are you doing, Steve?
I was taking my mid-double-shift nap,
as is my custom.
Yes, but, could you two leave?
Hey, Ravi. Harris' lawyer has just sent me...
Wait for it.
Video will.
Just send it to Clive.
I don't work for Clive.
You do, actually.
And for me.
I'm baaack!
You thought you could kill me?
Guess again, Jack.
JK. LOL. OMG.
BBQ. Legally speaking, if you're watching this, I'm definitely dead.
So, to my bestest friend Hamm,
I leave my radio equipment. On condition
that he continues the show but changes the name
to "Hamm Radio."
Everything else, I leave to
whatever charities my dad deems least corrupt.
Harris, out!
And this tells us nothing.
Unless you believe his best friend killed him
to get hold of some second-hand radio equipment.
- What if... - Oh, not again.
Yeah, again.
Steve-adore, can you hack a dead teenager's social media account?
Can a thing that's known for doing a thing do that very thing?
Oh, hey.
What... What are you looking for?
Maj, are you all right?
Where are my shoulder pads?
Mom will know.
Uh-oh.
So, mental fog, fuzzy memories,
gets lost in the past.
How can Major be on Alzheimer's brains?
He eats tubes.
Hey, big guy,
eat up.
I asked myself the same thing when I got here.
Those grave robberies from the news...
We assumed hungry zombies,
but I looked up the records.
Alzheimer patients, every one.
My guess, humans poisoning the zombie food supply.
Dead Enders, I'd bet.
I think the city needs to know about
the bad brains before there's a crisis.
Yeah, I'll download Bozzio now.
Is the Mayor's office putting out a statement?
Brilliant. Love you.
I know you know.
? We're gonna sing this song forever ?
Whoo!
Uh, what just happened?
Oh, they were half-assing Eileen's birthday.
Had to crank it up a notch.
Oh, sweet pipes, Stever!
Were you just here for the free cake
or have you got some information for us?
"I want to touch your monkey."
Bold, direct, and a little confusing.
I was hoping for something more along the lines of Harris' password.
That is Harris' password.
For everything. All one word, lower-case.
What are you gonna do with that?
You mean, what are "we" gonna do with that.
Sir, they're doing it.
- Who is doing what? - Humans,
Dead Enders, CHICS, sympathizers.
They're surrounding the brain dispensaries,
they won't let anyone in.
They don't realize we're doing mobile distribution.
Kind of hilarious.
Mmm. Thank you. Dismissed.
Yes, sir.
I need a riot control team,
and bring the water cannon.
We need to teach these humans a lesson.
_
Ravi, hey, got your note.
Thanks for looking after me. Same to Liv.
I'm still a bit fuzzy on yesterday,
but, you know, maybe it'll come back.
Anyway, you complete me. See you later.
Armored vehicles, tear gas, and water cannons.
After a tense standoff, Fillmore Graves turned
the high pressure hoses on CHICS protesters,
including women and children, without warning.
I'm back!
You thought you could kill me?
Guess again, Jack.
Welcome back, Seattle!
Harris Burrows comin' at ya live and illegally.
Hold that thought. We've got a caller.
- What do you say, caller? - Harris, is that you?
Are you really alive, dude?
You know it.
And this one goes out to all the ladies.
Stevie Wonder! Are there no depths to your hidden talents?
Not even when I'm murderer bait, evidently.
The only way the killer gets in is through that door.
I'm a zombie, and Ravi is heavily-armed.
With... With this.
Which I've never used before.
And we'll be hiding right here in this closet keeping watch.
Comforting.
Plus there is dozen boys in blue outside manning the perimeter.
Nobody is getting to you.
You're doing great. Double-0 Steven. Nobody does it better.
What if it's Blaine?
Huh?
What if it's not a teenager or a middle-aged man?
What if Blaine and his goons walk through the door?
- Trained killers. - I'd forgotten about Blaine.
It's probably not Blaine.
Shh! We're on a mission.
I know. You forged my signature
on an overtime request for 12 officers.
- What are you up to? - We're pretending Harris is still alive
to flush out the killer.
- I... - Don't worry. It's under control.
Liv, what's that?
Steve!
Liv.
Liv, what happened?
Did I mean for Steve to get shot?
Of course not.
Could the plan have gone better? Sure.
But ask yourself...
Could it also have gone worse?
Yes, that's the point!
Vampire Steve could be dead and the killer is still in the wind.
That was a stupid, stupid plan.
We got the shooter.
Caught him climbing down a drainpipe on the Victorian next door.
Had this on him.
Ouch.
- Hamm? - What'd you do?
Cut together old clips of Harris's broadcasts?
Yeah, we did.
So, Harris really is dead then?
Phew. Well, at least there's that.
- He was your best friend. - I was his sidekick.
You have any idea how exhausting it is
being dragged along on every one of his little pranks?
- Some, yes. - Harris never took "no" for an answer.
Like, when he convinced me to steal golf carts
from my dad's club in the middle of the night
and go do doughnuts on the greens.
When we got busted, his dad laughed, wrote him a check.
My parents took away my college fund.
Mmm.
He could've easily paid for my tuition.
Way less than what he paid for Amy's cure.
But he wanted to keep me around as his lackey.
I was supposed to be visiting colleges when the wall went up,
I would've been out there instead of in here.
Caught red-handed, full confession.
Anything else I can do for you tonight, Detective?
It was still a stupid plan.
Go ahead. Read him his rights.
Uh, Eileen, you take it from here.
Got it.
You've the right to remain silent...
Hell of a show.
? Hey! You paid big bucks That's for sure ?
? And now you get Your zombie cure ?
I paid extra for the song.
Oh!
Uh, like I said, delivery from Blaine DeBeers.
Thanks.
What'd you see?
Someone holding a giant sweepstakes check?
Don E in a wig delivering a cure to Harris.
So Don E stole 'em.
It could've been Blaine, and Don E was just the delivery boy.
What haven't Blaine and I done?
I got a million stories where that came from.
I got to tell you something.
You know, that kid who got murdered...
- Mmm. - That neighbor kid?
- Mmm. - I ate some of his brain.
No!
Sure did. And I had a vision
of you delivering the zombie cure to him.
Pffft! No.
Uh-uh.
And since you do Blaine's bidding,
that means Blaine was selling the cure.
And whoever's selling the cure
killed the Mayor, so...
The Mayor!
Blaine would never kill her.
He loves her.
They used to be a thing.
Tell me more about Blaine and Peyton Charles.
Well, they...
Hey, aren't you supposed to be having sex at Blaine's?
I mean, dinner?
I am having so much more fun with you.
Burning the midnight oil?
And you are?
Al Bronson. Bluster magazine.
I'm doing a story on Blaine DeBeers.
Blaine DeBeers. Interesting life, I bet.
I look forward to reading it.
Posting it tonight. All that's left is some housekeeping.
Can I run a few things by you for comment?
Of course.
Shouldn't the authorities of known
of Blaine's checkered past
before asking him to smuggle brains for the city?
That was a Fillmore Graves decision,
but yes, of course they did.
He had the know-how.
So it was known he was a smuggler?
- Of course. - And a drug dealer before that?
Yes.
Uh, but, I mean, all the good that he's doing now
- kind of... - What about the murders?
What?
Well, he murdered your boss, for one.
That's a... That's a crazy accusation.
Plus a bunch of runaways, winos, streetwalkers, you name it.
All at a butcher shop he owned called Meat Cute.
We were forced to drop those charges
because we didn't have the evidence to convict, so...
So, were you sleeping with Blaine at this time
or did that come later?
All right, then.
I think that's all the confirmation I need.
If you run a story that
says those things...
Ten thousand zombies
depend on the brains Blaine delivers into the city.
Do you think he murdered the Mayor?
At least in part,
as a love letter to you?
I mean, that's why you're in charge around here, right?
I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.
Now.
I can't believe you fell for his whole "Thing".
You couldn't see through him?
Hey, Al.
It's Blaine. Again.
Just making sure that
you definitely meant to stand me up and,
um...
So yeah.
Mmm.
Hey, you busy?
Yeah.
Bring a friend.
_
...concerns that the return to the police state
instituted by the previous regime
may be eminent. Earlier today,
CHICS spokesperson Dolly Durkins had this to say.
Fillmore Graves may not be guillotining
people anymore in the town square, but make no mistake,
they are an authoritarian regime
with no regard for human rights.
Okay? We will resist,
we will fight back, we will prevail.
You asked to see me, Commander?
I did.
The water cannon, the billy clubs,
you were acting on my orders?
Your direct orders.
Really? 'Cause that doesn't sound like me.
Does that sound like me?
No, sir. It does not.
What are you suggesting?
I'm one of a couple hundred zombies in Seattle
who got dosed a tube of brains from Alzheimer patients.
Mmm.
But I think you know that.
You seemed fine when we spoke.
Did you know anything about the bad brains going around?
A number of our men suffered the same effects.
- I did not. - Interesting.
'Cause Corporal Wells said he briefed you.
You gave the Dead Enders exactly what they wanted.
You walked into their trap.
I bet every time that footage runs, another hundred humans sign up.
I don't know what you're up to, Enzo,
but you're gonna go away for a while.
Vive Chase Graves!
Whatever.
- I did what had to be done. - Come on, let's go.
Your failure of leadership will be the destruction of us all!
Ready to knock 'em dead in D.C.?
What's wrong?
I'm heading to D.C. to lobby
on behalf of a city that pays handsomely for a murderer
to provide brains to its undead population.
Oh, no.
And also strongly implies that I'm either complicit in covering up
Blaine's crimes, or I'm too blinded
by my sexual relationship with him
to realize that I was being duped.
I'm so sorry.
Guess you saw the story, too.
The Blaine and Peyton stuff is off the mark.
You know that, right?
Blaine?
Wha... What story are you talking about?
What story are you talking about?
The AP picked up the Freylich story.
It went wide this morning.
Now everyone knows that these kids have a zombie cure
just inside their skulls.
Ravi,
this is not your fault.
I'm pretty sure it is.
_
What, Don E?
Ah, you might not want to come in today, boss.
I wasn't planning on it, but why?
That Bluster profile of you went online this morning.
Uh, I could give you the highlights,
but that seems like the least fun way to spend the next few minutes.
You should just read it.
- Oh, no brains shipped today. - What do you mean, no brains shipped?
Uh, I assume it's because of the story.
I don't know if everyone went on strike or what.
And Mr. Boss ain't pickin' up. Who knows what time zone he's in.
Zombie murderer!
What was that? Oh, my God.
Commander. Enzo's sentence has been carried out.
He's in the box.
Great. Thank you, Lieutenant.
I noticed something when I was there, however.
Prisoners Tador and Jackson were missing.
- Missing? - They aren't the only ones.
I ordered a full accounting.
Seventeen prisoners gone in total.
Who'd want to unthaw our prisoners?
And why?
Synced and corrected by hawken45 for www.addic7ed.com