WHITELY: It's funny the things that you remember from school.
One of my history teachers told me
that after the Indians killed Custer,
two squaws shoved needles in his ears
so that he'd learn to listen better in the afterlife.
You should've listened better.
♪♪ ♪♪
(cat yowls)
-Hey. -Hey.
Where is everyone?
"Everyone"?
You're supposed to call the station, bring backup.
Trust me when I tell you, Gino, they would not have come.
Do you have my gun?
Is this the place?
It's right down there.
All right.
Okay, what are you doing?
What are you talking about what am I doing?
No, this is not how it works, Gino.
Okay, I can handle this. You stay here.
Excuse me, that fucker tortured me.
I'm gonna be a part of this.
No, you're not.
I am coming with you.
And the longer you sit here and think about it,
the more likely it is that Henry is gonna get killed.
Jesus fucking Christ.
GINO: You want to be fucking Rock Hudson?
You're not going in without Susan Saint James.
♪♪ ♪♪
Jesus.
What are our lives gonna be like
when we're not hunting serial killers?
Boring and pointless.
Eating pasta every night and watching Hollywood Squares.
-(clattering nearby) -That sounds kind of perfect.
♪♪ ♪♪
Oh, shit.
Okay, okay...
All the sudden, I'm starting not to like this.
PATRICK: Oh, come on, Gino.
You're a reporter.
Treat it like one of your stories.
Somehow, in journalism school, I missed the course on
breaking into the murderer's lair.
-(scraping nearby) -What's that?
(clacking in distance)
GINO: Is he alive?
Yeah, he's still alive.
(machinery whirring)
(chains clanking)
Jesus.
Fucking holy mother of God.
(grunting)
♪♪ ♪♪
(grunting)
♪♪ ♪♪
(yelling)
Damn it.
I can't believe this is happening.
Got to get out of here.
Well, there's an idea. I hadn't thought of that.
We should get out of here.
(muttering quietly)
Patrick!
Don't. Don't do that.
It doesn't help.
Also...
He's too young for you.
What?
I'm just saying, in my opinion,
a gentleman of your élan should be with someone
who's a more suitable, sophisticated life partner.
I-I should've listened to him more.
I shouldn't have been so unforgiving.
God, this lament.
Oh, why couldn't he have taken my other ear?
GINO: Fuck!
Fuck.
WHITELY: Thank God you're alive.
I didn't think you were coming back.
I'm sorry about the tenderizer.
I just-- I had to have something that would work really fast.
I-I gauged my swing so I wouldn't tenderize your brain.
And the gag, I-I don't like hearing people scream in pain.
That's not why I do this.
I wanted to get you alone so we could talk.
I just have to tell you...
I'm a fan.
I admire you so much.
Must be hell being in that precinct.
What you go through on a daily basis, I can only imagine.
And even though we're kind of working at cross purposes,
I made a little change of plan.
I already gave him a heart.
But it's a heart from someone of no consequence.
But a sentinel,
a beacon of hope for the entire community,
deserves better...
Don't you think?
So, I'm going to give him your heart.
A noble, beating heart.
I hope you realize what an honor this is.
But please bear with me first.
I've got to correct a mistake.
(squelching, crunching)
(laughing)
What could you possibly be laughing at?
That's a viscera chart.
Look.
That chart, it shows all the parts they threw away.
That's what this room was for.
That's why he put us here, what he thinks of us.
GINO: Fuck.
(chains rattling)
(pained groaning)
What are you doing?
Destroying my hand is what I'm doing.
It's really gonna cut down on my self-love.
(agonized groaning)
(yelling)
Oh.
Jesus, you did it. You fucking did it.
Shh, shh, shh.
Not so quick, Tinkerbell.
Oh, this other one is too tight.
It's not gonna loosen up. God.
Then get something to get us free.
Keys, on the wall.
And these tables don't move.
Try to find a-a small knife, something to pick the lock.
Who am I? Houdini, suddenly?
Jesus.
(straining)
Yes. Yes. Yes.
(labored breathing)
Hurry.
These tools aren't sharp enough to cut through this metal cuff.
Oh, I don't want to do that.
Ooh, goddamn it, I don't want to do that.
GINO: Wh-What are you talking about?
Do what?
Oh, fuck it.
I guess I deserve it.
No. No, no.
None of us deserve this.
I could've stopped this fucker a long time ago.
Deep down, I knew it was him.
But I just buried my head in the sand.
I just decided that it didn't affect me,
and so I let people die.
My people.
Our people.
Well, this is where...
...I give something back.
Henry, what are you doing?
Henry?
Henry, what are you...?
No, Henry.
No.
No!
(crunching)
Hey.
Hey!
So, you're making a beacon of hope for our community.
You really love our community, huh?
It's all I care about.
PATRICK: Yeah?
How many of us do you have to butcher
to make that... thing?
The Sentinel has to come from us.
What would you have me use? Straights?
Some sacrifices were necessary.
The deaths of our unfortunate brothers proved something.
Yeah, what?
That no one cares about us.
That no one cares what happens to us.
Especially the police.
I think I proved my point, don't you?
You really think this ugly lump of dead meat
is going to make a difference to anybody?
He won't be dead.
You've heard stories about people
who've fallen beneath the ice
and survived for 20 minutes before being revived?
Right now he's being kept fresh by embalming fluid,
but once your heart is in place,
I'll drain the fluid, transfuse some of my blood,
an injection of adrenaline
and a hit of the paddles...
The blood will flow, the heart will pump,
and he'll live again,
ready to take his place among the world.
It's all very exciting.
(groaning)
Hey.
There we go.
Out with the old...
(groaning)
...and in with the new.
(Patrick groaning)
(chain saw revving)
Get back, you sick fuck!
I said get the fuck back!
You should've killed me while you had the chance, Whitely.
(chain saw revving)
Right?
We're gonna make you pay
for what you did to those people.
They died for the greater good.
I'm doing something glorious,
something that will change the world.
How did shoving needles under my fingernails
help you to change the world?
WHITELY: I wasn't torturing you, I was testing you.
It's like that man in the leather bar.
I just knew right away he wasn't worthy.
And-and the parts that I didn't use,
I left for the police to find.
To show how powerless they were,
and how little they cared for us.
You're going to tell me that you didn't get off
on all that just a little bit?
I have my demons.
I faced them that night
you hired me to cut up that boy, Henry.
I confess, I enjoyed it.
And that's the part of me that needs to get burned away.
(gun clicking)
No.
All of you needs to be burned away.
The Sentinel is our salvation.
He will save us.
He will show the world our suffering and will redeem us.
The only one who needs redemption is you, buddy.
But you don't get it.
(gunshot)
♪♪ ♪♪
(clamoring)
REPORTER: Officer Read, how's it feel to be a gay cop?
(clamoring continues)
MULCAHEY: I'm just as shocked as you are.
But what can you expect from a...
"department that treats gays
"like they don't exist,
or worse, that they shouldn't exist."
You know, you surprise me, Mulcahey.
Because I'm reading a fag rag?
PATRICK: No. I didn't know that you could read.
I would offer to clear out my desk,
but I'm pretty sure that's painted shut.
I don't need your badge, Detective Read.
Give it to someone who does.
Would you hang on a second?
Have a seat, would you?
There's nothing left to say.
Oh, yeah, that-that's the truth right there.
You pretty much said it all.
Made us sound like a lost division of the SS.
You know, believe it or not, I get where that comes from.
Some of these guys, they, uh...
Well, I don't need to tell you.
Just wish you hadn't gone to the press.
You know?
Doesn't mean you're getting fired.
What makes you think I'm not quitting?
Well, I hope you'll stick around and help us fix this mess.
Relations with your, uh, community.
You know, you can head up a sort of outreach.
You must be getting a lot of heat from upstairs, huh?
Look, whether I am or not, I'm sincere about this.
"Sincere."
Why don't we start with reopening every single case
you swept under the rug because one of the victims was gay, huh?
And I'm just thinking off the top of my head here.
How about that poor teenage boy
who was beat half to death in the Bronx?
Or the couple who were kissing in public
and got pelted with bricks in the street?
Or the assholes who turned up with baseball bats
to a private party and smashed the place up?
And where are we, huh?
Where the fuck are we with the gay bar fire investigation?
No?
Not that sincere?
Fuck you.
Fuck this whole department.
Detective Read.
Nah, it's not "Detective" anymore.
No, sir.
It's just Read now.
Hey. Sorry about the wait.
Had a little issue upstairs.
So, uh, like I said, this is...
This is going to be extremely difficult.
You sure you want to do this?
I'm ready.
All right.
Let's go.
There is, uh, considerable damage
to the postmortem of these bodies,
so I'm really not expecting you to identify
any of your friend's remains.
But, uh, we got to take a shot.
What did he do to them?
He was taking them apart
and using the pieces to make his own creation.
Targeted intellectual guys for the organs,
and beautiful men for the physical features.
Nothing about this is gonna be easy.
-You ready? -Yeah.
You, uh, you know, you're very good to do this.
Would you believe we've only ever had one family
come forward to identify remains?
Guess they preferred their sons dead than gay, huh?
You just described it to me, but...
I still can't believe it.
How could...?
How could anybody do something like this?
What the fuck is wrong with people in this city?
PATRICK: Take your time.
♪♪ ♪♪
I don't see anything of Sully here.
If he's here,
or anywhere, I...
I can't tell.
You tried.
That's all we can do.
How many men are a part of this thing?
We think maybe seven bodies.
Well, there are a lot more murders
and missing guys than that.
Where are they?
ADAM: Could it be fatal?
HANNAH: It's hard to say. Whatever this is,
it's now affecting our platelets and T cells.
And the others? Are-are you tracking them?
Half of my patients with these same symptoms have disappeared.
What?
I couldn't legally disclose this before, but now
that we know that Sully wasn't a victim of the Mai Tai Killer,
I feel like I have to tell you.
-Sully was one of my first patients. -What the fuck, Hannah?
When I first heard he went missing, I assumed he went home
to be with his family because he was sick and...
Sully would've told me that.
He...
He disappeared in the park that night.
I'm just as confused as you are, Adam.
No.
This doesn't make sense.
How could this illness be related
to all of these disappearances?
I don't know.
And I don't have the resources to find out.
I'm sorry. I wish I did.
Oh, my God.
LITA: Have you tried contacting any bigger labs or companies
-that could help? -47 unanswered phone calls.
Even my university colleagues won't touch this.
Without funding, no one gives a shit.
I wish I were surprised.
And the worst part is it's not just one illness.
What Adam and I have is viral,
but what KK has is a bacterial infection,
similar to the deer on Fire Island.
It's the ticks. I told you, it's biological warfare.
Probably the CIA.
We should write an article about this.
Put it in the Pride issue, start building interest now.
Absolutely.
There's still too much research that needs to be done.
Insect bites, rashes, fevers, disappearances.
It's all just too convoluted right now.
We'll only print the facts.
Let the readers make up their own minds.
We can't trust the public
to come to a rational conclusion on their own.
Half-baked science always leads to conspiracy theories.
ADAM: Sully didn't go home to his parents. I checked.
I hate to say it, but I think that there could be
more victims of the Mai Thai Killer
that just haven't been found yet.
Or there's another killer out there.
Do you hear yourself?
There's a leather daddy who's stalking people
with blood disorders?
I mean, this is crazy.
We caught the killer.
It's over.
I'm not crazy, okay?
I know what I saw.
And there is space, here,
for an article about this,
even if it's just a little blurb.
Adam.
Before all of this took over our lives,
Patrick and I put down a deposit on a Fire Island rental
and it comes up this weekend.
I refuse to let it go to waste.
So why don't you join us?
Take a break from all of this insanity.
We're trying to get on with our lives
and-and I think that you should, too.
(scoffs)
I can't.
Theo and Hannah are helping me reignite the search for Sully.
I-I can't just... leave.
Bring them with you. It's a big house.
I think the ocean air will do us all good.
♪♪ ♪♪
(door closes)
(Patrick sighs)
-Hey. -Hey.
GINO: You okay?
-Uh-huh. -Good, good.
I'm exhausted. I think the beach is gonna do us both good.
PATRICK: Right.
We are not gonna allow this to destroy us.
-It's destroyed us already, Gino. -No.
-It's broken. -We just got to get somewhere away from these four walls.
-Barbara died. -GINO: I understand.
She's a good person. It's my fault.
It's... Patrick, it's not your fault.
-It is my fault. -It's not.
She knows it. I just saw her, Gino.
You saw who?
I saw Barbara.
I saw Barbara on the street, just...
What?
Oh, my God, I'm going out of my fucking mind.
GINO: Hey. Hey. Hey.
I'm going out of my fucking mind, Gino.
Hey, no, no, no. Shh. Come on, breathe. You're safe.
It's okay. It's okay.
-We're gonna be okay. -It's not okay. It's not okay,
Gino, we're not gonna be okay.
Look at our fucking lives.
Look at our lives.
Every day,
something terrible is gonna happen.
You're safe, you're safe.
I'm not.
And we're not safe, Gino.
♪♪ ♪♪
You're safe.
(siren wails outside)
(coughs)
(exhales)
(grunts softly)
(dial tone)
(line ringing)
ADAM: Hi. You've reached Adam and Sully.
Leave a message.
(beeps)
Adam, it's me.
Uh, I'm not gonna be able to make it to Fire Island.
The way I'm feeling right now,
I'm just too goddamn pregnant to handle that ferry ride.
I'm really sorry. Rain check?
(dial tone)
(dialing)
(line ringing)
Hey, Mom. It's Hannah.
I know we haven't talked in a while,
but I just really needed to hear your voice.
There's this disease going around
and I'm afraid that I have it.
It's my immune system.
My white blood cell count is really low.
I don't need to get into the details, but...
I'm just really scared, Mama.
I was wondering if it'd be okay if I came
and stayed with you for a little while.
(sighs) Okay.
Okay.
I love you.
I'll see you soon.
♪♪ ♪♪
(keys clacking)
GINO: Pride.
What does the word mean in the face of so much death?
Pride is a construct,
something we summon to unite us
when we feel tired and weak.
Pride takes work, but death comes easily.
Death is an old friend,
someone every gay person has known their whole lives.
As we walk the streets, in our jobs, and in our homes,
we have seen how quickly the world's hatred
towards us can escalate to violence.
In a glance or in a kiss,
death is always lurking around the corner.
Some of us drown out death's low roar with sex,
some drown it out with drugs or food or work.
But no matter our vices, when that low roar grows to a rattle,
and when that rattle ruptures,
we can no longer ignore the seismic terror
of our daily dance with death.
Something is coming,
something evil on the horizon.
GINO: Yes, the Mai Thai Killer was a sick man.
But was there some ounce of virtue in his impulse
to build a Sentinel,
to protect the very people he hurt?
Was this his Pride?
For those of us on the outskirts--
the unseen, the abused, the demeaned,
and the impoverished--
the terror of our mortality
leads us to destruction.
We lash out,
we hurt ourselves, and those who love us.
We lie, we steal,
and if we are driven to it, we kill.
Who am I to judge those who have gone down this path?
Aren't their impulses the same as mine?
Isn't their rage justified?
Did they simply choose death
because it was closer than Pride could ever be?
The hypocrisy is untenable.
Homosexuals must be treated like criminals.
GINO: What if we found value in our trauma?
Listened to it, rather than ignored it?
Could the force of our collective anger
actually become our savior?
As I laid bound to the table of the killer,
looking death in the eye, I didn't see evil.
I saw suffering created by the world who gave a man
no other choice but to destroy.
Imagine if we enlisted our gay rage as our Sentinel.
If, rather than sinking into the abyss of our despair,
or painting over our wounds with Pride,
we used anger as our compass.
Where would it lead us?
What could it do for us?
I saw a man who become a monster
because it's who the world expected him to be.
(whimpers)
It's time we acknowledge that this monster
has been implanted in all of us.
And the only way to release him
is to release society's expectations
of who and what we should be.
This is our freedom.
This is our way out.
This is our Pride.
This is our Sentinel.
♪♪ ♪♪
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org