Man over intercom: Contact vector control room
Duty technicians report to sector 9 at once.
Repeat: Duty technicians report to sector 9 at once.
Chief Engineer Hargrove, you are kindly requested to report to the operations room immediately.
All duty personnel are requested to report to the control module for a trial run.
To all duty personnel, attention, please.
Start of countdown for trial run.
10, 9, 8,7, 6, 5, 4 ,3, 2,1,0.
Man: Sector 4, all duties running normally.
Woman: Sector 2, temperatures exceeding capacity.
Automatic refrigeration circuits activated.
Situation under control.
Request immediate action and emergency control.
Induction flow normal.
Run a check on control module 5.
All readings normal, professor. Everything checks out.
How about section 6?
Normal reading on line access. Zero overflow.
Temperature? Temperature normal, Professor Barrett.
How's the linear momentum?
No change in the reading, sir.
Woman: Excuse me, Professor Barrett.
In a few minutes, we'll have a printout on the radioactivity for Antares.
Check the complement ratio for the module.
They're all running smoothly, professor.
Kappa ray seepage levels are all normal here, Lawson, but we'd better check for leaks from both end terminals.
She may not know much about chemistry, but in bed, her reactions are terrific.
I'm not surprised, with that cute little ass.
I'm a tit man myself.
The readings are all normal here too.
Sometimes I think these spot checks are just a waste of time.
Look here. Wait a minute. What's that?
The meter's going crazy. It's impossible.
There must be a source of leakage along the terminal.
Sure looks like it.
My God, the needle's running right off the scale!
Switch on the anti-contamination circuits.
Damn it, there's no reaction. It doesn't work.
Try the emergency valve.
Keep back. We may get some fireworks.
Good Lord! Look at this, Lawson!
A dead rat, in the most sterile sector of the module.
How could it get in?
Vince! Oh, my God!
Man over intercom: Emergency! Emergency!
Accident on module Antares!
Repeat: Accident on module Antares! Emergency!
Check the coordinates.
There's no answer, sir. Try again, Falo, for God's sake.
It's no use, sir. The circuits have gone wild.
We'd better stop that leak, or we'll be dead.
Operation Sweet Death. Professor Barrett here.
All emergency personnel report immediately to module Antares.
Red priority. See that all entities are kept under observation.
They must be isolated, understand? Cut off completely.
Accident on module Antares! Emergency!
Your gas mask, professor!
Accident on module Antares!
Accident on module Antares!
Experimental project Operation Sweet Death must be considered a complete failure.
Some kind of degenerative process has begun which may be catastrophic for everybody.
May God forgive us for what we have produced here and pardon us for this evil we have created.
Accident on module Antares! Emergency!
Yeah, they've been shut up in there for almost an hour now, but they're keeping themselves well hidden.
They demand to speak to the major and the highest-ranking magistrate in the city.
Man on police radio: Cars 5, 6 and 7, set up roadblocks on all access roads to residential zones.
Cars 5, 6 and 7, set up roadblocks to residential zones.
Man #2: Attention, all units: Civilian residents are to be evacuated from areas adjacent to U.S. consulate.
Repeat: All civilian residents are to be evacuated from areas adjacent to U.S. consulate.
Where are they holding the hostages? On the second floor or the first?
Keep your head down, mister. Those guys shoot at anything.
Keep undercover. What do you think they are:
Palestinians, Iranians, or a new kind of terrorist?
All we know is, they're damn good shots.
That's a start.
First of all, we'll split into two groups.
You and Osborne will attack from below.
Vincent and I will make a surprise entrance from the roof.
Ah, nuts! Bunch of crazy goddamn terrorists.
But at least somebody could tell us who we're killing, for a change.
Osborne: It's like you said: just another gang of crazy terrorists.
And we eliminate the whole lot?
Sure, of course.
Just be careful you don't get your balls wasted.
Vincent: When did you start worrying about our balls, Daddy?
I got news for you. We're going on a vacation in a tropical paradise.
On the beautiful isle of New Guinea.
Ha, ha! What are the broads like there?
Naked and wild.
Listen to me, you bastards.
I've decided to kill everybody, but I'll give you one more chance.
Within 10 minutes, I want an announcement on television with an explicit promise to shut down the Hope Centers and a confirming statement from the United Nations.
And you'd better shake your ass. There's just 10 minutes to go!
The guys on the roof-- who are they?
A special squad. Get those guys.
Those sons of bitches are gonna get the lesson they deserve.
Stay with them.
The group of terrorists who captured eight hostages in the American consulate at midday have presented an ultimatum to the civil authorities.
Its contents have not been revealed, and all those concerned are maintaining strict silence.
Al, are you ready? Lt. London's going in, sir.
Back him up with guns and tear gas. Yes, sir.
Hold it right there! Drop your gun.
Man on TV: There is still no information on the terrorists' ultimatum.
However, it may be of an ecological nature, though the group has not yet identified itself.
While we're waiting for further information, we'll review how the attack started.
We're now able to show you the scene directly from our outside camera unit.
At the American consulate, as you will see, the police and armed forces special groups have formed an impregnable barrier around the building.
Skilled marksmen have been stationed at strategic points and provided with the most sophisticated modern weapons.
Now the terrorists know they cannot escape the forces of law and order and that their only hope is to give up their brutal threat Of a LISGIGSS massacre.
Man: Over there! Over there! Lie down!
Hurry up! All of you!
Lie down on the floor!
You're never gonna leave here alive, understand?
I swear, you're all gonna die. Quick! The windows!
Damn it, I'm gonna kill you all.
We're all doomed, so it doesn't matter anyhow!
They're all murderers.
They're selfish and self-centered.
And you don't know about it because you don't want to think.
You're all doomed to a horrible death.
Doomed to be eaten up.
First they'll kill you, then afterwards you'll be eaten... be eaten, devoured, by men like you, your brothers.
London: Eagle calling base. Eagle calling base.
We've landed in a large native graveyard
20 miles east of Daroka.
Awaiting further orders. Over.
Man: Hey, Zantoro, look at that one.
He looks like you trying to shit a brick.
Boy, with all them teeth, I'd sure like to have the dental concession here.
London: Eagle calling base.
It's hot as a horse's ass in fly time here, and I don't like the heat.
We're awaiting further instructions.
We want to get out of this goddamn valley! Over.
Man: "Patience is the chief virtue of those who have faith."
Mahatma Gandhi, New Delhi, 1946.
Man: "Up your ass." Lt. Mike London.
Shit Creek. The year is now.
Man: Without a paddle.
Hey, Vincent, what happened to all those cute little wild, naked native girls you promised us?
There's one right in front of you. Look.
She may not seem like much to you, but in bed she's out of this world.
I kind of prefer my girls more meaty.
You take her.
Eagle calling base.
If you don't give us our bearings, we'll proceed by dead reckoning.
You can always count on the government for a perfect example of brilliant organization.
Airport and village both deserted.
Nobody to guide us, and for transport we had to steal this heap ofjunk.
Not "steal." That would make us criminals.
We merely borrowed it.
For Christ sake, answer.
I'm getting fed up in this valley! Over.
Man: I wonder how long these jerks have been dead.
London: Centuries, maybe.
It's the dry climate in the valley that preserves them.
Like smoked herring and jerky.
This is my final call. Do you read me? Over.
Yes, sir. All ready and rarin' to go.
There's nothing we can do. No one answers at the base.
Come on. Let's get going. Okay.
There we are.
Woman: Careful. It's still hurting him.
Damn it, damn it!
That poor kid. The wound is still suppurating.
The infection is spreading by the minute.
And we didn't bring any medicine with us.
Perhaps in there, we might find some water.
These bright ideas you get.
Bringing a seven-year-old child through this filth.
Only you could've thought of it.
There was no way anybody could've guessed the trouble we'd run into.
Dumb broad! The living image of a modern mother!
You couldn't be so mean as to leave your kid in a nice, safe school for a couple of weeks-- not her.
Oh, no. Not to bring our boy along with us would be cruel.
Doesn't matter if he's eaten up by mosquitoes.
Or wounded by a native lunatic.
You're not gonna begin that again?
Oh, no. I'm sorry.
Naturally, the great Lia Rousseau can't be bothered listening to the complaints of a man who's upset about his boy.
No. She's on a special mission.
The idol of the TV audience who never gets enough violence and bloodshed!
You make things very easy.
I'm going to go get some water.
I want to immortalize you.
Your public won't be happy without a few close-ups.
If you don't mind, I must get a little air.
Yes, of course. Go ahead.
Give me the boy. I'll hold him.
There, there. I won't be long.
Father, what's wrong with you?
Ah, water at last.
I feel like diving right in. Why don't you?
I prefer to concentrate on the delightful water nymph who is about to quench my innate primordial thirst.
Do you want it with the bottle or without?
It makes no difference. In this type of recording, you're the tops.
They'll take whatever you give them.
Lia: Who are they? Look at the way they walk.
I can't see how many of them there are.
Just look at those faces. They look like monsters.
Man: They could be drunk.
Or drugged. Or maybe it's a leper colony.
They probably don't intend to harm anyone.
I don't know. I wouldn't be too sure.
London: It looks perfectly normal, except...
Those white patches-- what are they?
Could be buildings.
And that thing near them is a vehicle of some kind.
Buildings have people in them.
I think we'll go and investigate.
Man: Maybe there's some chicks in grass skirts.
London: Maybe there's some without grass skirts.
What are we gonna do?
They don't have any weapons.
We could probably just make a run for it.
Okay! Come on, let's go!
What kind of place you think it is?
Looks like an abandoned mission.
Hey, who the hell are these two?
Lia: Help! Help!
What's going on? We're being chased!
These weird creatures-- they're monsters or something just behind the building.
They came out of the forest!
You two guys, go take a look. Okay.
Guess I'd better take an extra gun, huh?
Stop futzing around and shift your ass!
Okay, okay. What's your hurry? There ain't a war on, is there?
In the truck. Look.
Hold it! Shh!
What the hell is it?
No, hold it!
That's not polite. I get the first shot!
These mothers have got more lives than a cat!
Josie, are you here?
Leave it to me.
All you have to do is shoot it right through the head.
Let's go. Where's the girl?
It's all over now. Yes.
Don't worry. It's all over.
Man on TV: So far there have been no reliable reports from this remote area.
Certain sources have indicated an increase of incidents involving cannibalism, but the government has denied this categorically.
Mr. Furay, Anthony is waiting for you.
He says it's important. ...to make a thorough investigation and to present a full report.
It is hoped that this will satisfy the public demand for information.
Apparently, the whole country's going crazy, but her report doesn't make any reference to the Hope Center project.
You understand what happened in the American consulate tends to confirm our worst suspicions.
And everything going on down there-- the frightened natives, the mass hysteria-- is further proof.
In their last ultimatum, the terrorists demanded the dismantling of the Hope Centers, and that request was suppressed.
We've gone far beyond idle speculation now.
The Hope Centers are working toward something that verges on genocide.
If Lia can just reach the center first, we'll be able to scoop the whole world on a major catastrophe.
Furay: Yes, a catastrophe so great, there may be no one to report it to.
The best way to the river from here will take us through one of the native villages, approximately 10 miles away.
Incidentally, what are we going to do with those two reporters?
We'll have to ditch them someplace, like that village you mentioned.
They'll be okay. Don't worry.
If I'm not mistaken, I think she's a very important girl.
She's a reporter on television.
London: All the more reason to get rid of them as soon as we can.
Reporters often make trouble, and on this mission, we can't have any interfering, nosy partners endangering our chance of success.
That road there must be the one that leads on down to the village.
What's the matter? Why don't we get moving?
London: I don't like the sound of those drumbeats.
I wouldn't want finish up on a spit like chickens at a backyard barbecue.
Yeah. It sounds as if they're excited over something.
Are you going to shit your pants over a few savages?
Even if you had a tank, you'd be risking your life driving it through this type ofjungle.
You don't know the people here as well as I do.
They're fast and silent.
They were born in the jungle and spent their lives in it.
They know how to use it to destroy their enemies.
You seem to be quite an expert on these things, lady.
She is. Lia knows everything about the natives here.
She spent a whole year living with a tribe in the interior.
Very interesting. What do you think we should do?
I'll have to go ahead and meet them, and go alone.
Now I'll go ahead alone. You can join me in an hour, and don't use your guns.
What's he up to?
I don't know, but the hour is up and the drumbeats have changed.
Let's go into the village.
The whole village is contaminated, and there have been many deaths.
Now they're celebrating the funerals.
They think that we've come here to help them out.
IIHeNpll? What can we do?
We can't do nothin', but we'd better not let them know that.
Oh! Don't you feel well?
Never felt better, only I'm afraid I'm a little pie-eyed.
Would you do me a favor if I asked? I suppose so.
Couldn't you stop acting in that formal manner of yours?
Do you have to be so military?
Man: When a soldier is out on an important mission, he has no time for sentiment.
I wish to God I knew what's happening here.
Why should nature suddenly start breaking its own laws?
Why should the dead come back to life and walk around?
Why should they start eating other humans?
The sky, the water-- everything seems contaminated.
Then you arrived from nowhere, right?
And I can't help wondering for what.
You're a journalist looking for news.
Our mission is confidential, for security reasons.
Top secret. Is that it?
The apocalypse is bearing down on us.
The tombs are opening their doors.
Dead men devour the living.
And you're afraid to reveal your military secret.
And yet perhaps the whole disaster is the result of one of those military secrets for national security.
Perhaps it's related to those centers called Hope, right?
Get in the car, quick!
Back to the jeep! Come on, let's go!
We'll have to shoot our way through!
Those poor people can't possibly understand what's going on.
They'll all be killed, victims of the dead they refuse to bury.
If you want my opinion, I know what they ought to do with those goddamn corpses.
Have a nice, big bonfire.
They'd rather be eaten alive than burn those bodies.
Well, so much the worse for them.
Why the long face? Something eating you?
The girl was questioning me.
I think she suspects why we're here.
We'll have to get rid of her as soon as we can.
Goddamn friggin' son of a bitch!
Goddamn it! How the hell did this happen?
This lousy, stinking motor is burned out!
All right, unload our equipment. We'll go in the Land Rover.
Okay, boys, let's get going.
Give me that bag. It's all yours.
It weighs a ton.
Start unloading yourjunk. We can only take what's indispensable.
Hey, give me a hand, somebody! This stuff's heavy!
Hold on, wait a minute. We've got all our film and records in there.
I'm not gonna throw any of that away.
If we don't get rid of some of your baggage, there isn't gonna be enough room in there for everybody.
Come on. Get a move-on.
Whether you like it or not, our stuff's gonna stay, understand?
It's too important for us to leave lying around here in the jungle.
You're beginning to bug me, kiddo. Just don't break my balls.
Son of a bitch! I'll show you!
You got the message now, or do you want to keep on talking? Huh?
Leave him alone or I swear I'll blow your brains out.
You guys stay there and don't move.
And in case you've got the idea that a woman would be afraid to shoot you, just forget it, 'cause you wouldn't be the first one I've had to shoot either.
I took care of one jerk who thought he was tough enough to rape me.
Let's be reasonable. Hold it. Don't move.
Don't try anything, you crummy son of a bitch. And you neither!
If you guys want to pull a fast one, say goodbye to him.
And you'd better not do anything to make me nervous or my finger might slip on the trigger.
Keep your shirt on and listen to me. We're in this situation where--
You listen, you gang of bloodthirsty bastards!
Here we are, ready to let you ride in our truck instead of deserting you in the jungle, and you want us to throw away everything we've worked for.
The only thing that gives this trip any meaning. Don't you remember The eyes of that kid when he was eating his father's flesh?
As long as I live, I'll never forget that look.
Unless perhaps you're just being cunning, and this story about space in the truck is a cover for what you really want to do: get rid of us so we're no longer in your way, like throwing ballast overboard when the going gets heavy.
Is that your plan, Lieutenant?
Well, I'm afraid it's very different ballast that's getting thrown out.
All of you, drop your guns. I mean right now.
Do what she says.
Better take them with us to the first inhabited place and dump them there.
Heart of gold.
Come on, on your feet. Let go. I can get up.
I don't need help.
Don't forget their guns, Osborne. Don't worry.
It's not loaded! Boom!
Don't shout. I won't hurt you. Thanks for nothing.
You're cigarette's too visible in the dark.
I'm afraid you'll have to put it out.
Okay, boss. I'll do whatever you say.
Here, try some. What is it?
Chewing tobacco. It's very good, once you get into the habit of chewing.
I was waiting for a chance to talk to you, to say I wish you wouldn't hold all this against us.
I don't hold anything against you.
Seriously. But I guess it's no use telling you that you're seeing our behavior in a very poor light, and that it's the situation which forces us to behave the way we do.
Suppose we'd met at a cocktail party in Washington and we liked each other.
We'd be in the sack by now. That's your opinion.
I only meant you could've known the real me.
That's all I wanted to say. It's simple.
Because people like you and me could get along in normal circumstances.
Yeah. I'd just be another name to add to your collection.
I shouldn't have said anything. You won't take it seriously.
Apparently, all you want is for me to seduce you with a champagne supper.
Well, name your brand, lady.
And some nice caviar to go with it.
Damn fool! You're supposed to be on guard duty!
I'm gonna have to start getting tough with you.
Zantoro, get the guns and canteens and come with me.
We're gonna go on down the trail a ways and look for water.
If you see anything strange, honk the horn.
♪ The chief went out to have a beer ♪
♪ And left the soldiers waiting here ♪
Hey, London, listen. What?
There are bloodstains all along the trail.
Have you noticed?
And pieces of flesh.
Yeah, I know. I saw it too.
Keep your eyes peeled.
It's all quiet enough around here.
There's no sign of those damn things.
Holy cr-- Look at that!
God, that's disgusting!
Hey, what is that thing? Is that one of them?
Come on, Zantoro. Let's get out of here quick!
Quick! Start the car! We're clearing out!
The jungle is full of those things! Let's clear out, fast!
What do you mean? What is it? They're coming this way.
There's a whole crowd of them.
Oh, no! That's all we needed!
I finally got a chance to get some good shots of them.
Where do you think you're going? Let go of me!
This is the chance of a lifetime, and I have no intention of wasting it.
Come back! Max!
Max! Come back here!
He's out of his mind! They'll kill him if he gets any closer!
We've got to do something!
That's it, boys. Hold still for a nice close-up.
Go start the engine. I'm not gonna leave him.
We can't leave him there. I told you to start the car.
Max! Don't worry.
We've got to get away before they attack us!
Okay, Vincent, let's get the ones in front.
Goddamn gun's no good.
I don't know who looks stupider-- those guys with shit all over their faces or the boys shooting at them.
I think you're afraid of them. Who is? Me?
Yeah, yeah, you. I think you're pissing your pants.
So I'm afraid?
Okay. Listen, you just keep the engine going in our getaway car.
Just take a sec.
Cut it out! Stop wasting your damn bullets, you jerks!
You need to hit their heads! I told you! See? Like this!
Get away! Beat it! Clear out!
Come on, quick. We've got to get away.
Hurry! Just a minute!
Come on, I said! Oh, yeah?
Huh? What are you waiting for?
Come on, let's go! I'm ready for you.
What's the matter? You scared?
Come on, try it again! Huh?
You want to play games?
Okay. I'll start at one for you. Let's see where it gets you.
Come on, you stupid, putrid bastards!
Come on, Zantoro! What the hell are you doing? Come here, I said!
Shit-faced bastards! You lousy bunch of turds!
You can't catch me.
Get back to your graves.
Beat it! Screw off!
Come on. This way. I'm waiting for you.
Damn it, use your friggin' head! Come on!
Hey, you. What are you staring at?
Are you hungry? Ah, I get it. You want a bite out of me.
He must be nuts. He's speaking to those gooks.
Sure, why not? What meat do you like?
Drumstick or wing?
Oh! Oh, yeah! Oh, that's great.
A wing, eh? Well, suck this!
In a few days, this trail is gonna be a tank track.
God knows how many divisions they'll need to clean out this country.
Tanks, hell. Bombs.
Like maybe a big neutron bomb.
One big boom, and we're back to square one.
London: I'd rather listen to the radio than hear your crap.
Man on radio: This gas cloud penetrated the stratosphere.
There is very little hope left.
Woman: ...the situation's more serious.
The recent breakdown in communications has prevented an accurate appraisal of this strange phenomenon, but several well-known European scientists have officially stated that there is nothing to worry about.
American and Russian spokesmen have launched--
And in the meantime, the security council of the United Nations has met in a special session at the request of the U.N. secretary-general, but the meeting failed to produce any specific recommendations on guidelines--
The bodies have to be burned. I say cremate them.
Ladies and gentlemen, please.
There's another serious problem we have to discuss.
Crowds of our fellow countrymen are in flight throughout the land, terrified by what is happening.
Something must be done for them.
You... have destroyed my people.
You have murdered my people.
You have treated them like a crowd of human larvae, like creatures without souls, insects, savage beasts, prehistoric animals.
The only way to kill them is a bullet right through the head.
That's the only way to stop them. Let's hear from the chief of police.
Man: Well, as far as those roving tribes are concerned, we've worked out a plan to block off the area north of Port Moresby, with the help of the army.
I insist that the most serious situation we have to deal with is cremating the bodies.
All the dead have to be burned within two hours, before they turn into these dreadful monsters.
To do this, we have to organize the police forces-- local and national-- into well-armed teams equipped with flamethrowers and ready to take the corpses from relatives who tried to hide them.
You... have brought on the apocalypse.
You have launched the beginning of the end, and now nothing and no one can prevent the ultimate disaster.
I can understand why you're upset, but I assure you that reliable sources say the situation in the country is under control and things are gradually returning to normal.
Of course, it will take time to return the tribes to their villages once they've all been disinfected.
Why don't you stop telling lies?
You all know. Why have they been running from their homes?
What brought them to this state of terror?
They're running from their children, their parents, their brothers.
Transformed into vile creatures that feast on human flesh.
And the monsters-- killing without pity at all!
Brother eats brother, mothers devour their offspring, in a chain of foul slaughter until nothing will remain but the bare earth, soaked in putrefying black!
Well, we'll continue tomorrow, Your Excellency.
Whee! Oh, my God.
Damn it! I don't think that's funny!
Okay, let's go check the house.
Here, you take this. Okay, thanks.
You notice that sort of smell?
Go take a look in the cellar. Yeah, okay.
We'll split up so we can check the place out faster.
I'll go upstairs.
Vincent, Zantoro, you cover the rest.
Get a load of this. Sure looks like it was a big shot who used to live in this house, yeah.
What's your rush? I go first, right? Right.
Yeah, if only there was something to eat in this shithouse.
That came from the cellar.
Wait here, Lia.
Look at them. Look at that!
They're eating him like pigs!
Goddamn rotten ghouls!
Get out of here, you filthy brutes!
Let go of her!
Back, damn you!
Get away! Let go!
Close your eyes, Lia.
There's too many of them!
We're going to run out of ammunition!
Keep shooting! Keep shooting!
They're coming out of the woodwork, for Christ sake'.!
Let's get out of here, quick!
Hold that door, Max!
Jeez, there's a whole family of them here.
Here they come!
He)/a YOU guys, do something!
I can't hold them back forever!
Here, catch. Max: For God's sake, do something!
Just keep calm, kiddies.
'Cause I'm one baby they're not biting. I know how to deal with them.
I can't hold them! I can't hold them!
Get back! No! No!
Get out of here! Get out!
Come on, you dumb vegetables! Come and get cooked!
You hungry? All right.
All right, come and get it!
You rotten, wormy, putrid creeps! Come on. Come and get it.
Get back, you bastards.
I've had enough of you, you friggin' ball-breakers!
Get back! Do as you're told! Fuck off!
Looks like maybe you lost your appetite.
Maybe you're not going to get supper tonight, huh? Huh?
Roast your friggin' fingers.
Get in the car, everybody. Quick!
Huh? Who wants to get toasted?
What's wrong? You're disappointed?
Sorry, boys. I'm not on the menu after all.
Don't let it worry you. I figure we'll all meet again... in hell!
Zantoro can't handle them all alone.
He did all right the last time.
What's he doing?
Vincent, go and get his guns.
Zantoro, come away!
Leave me alone!
Okay, boys, take off!
Hurry up! Get going! Here they come! What's wrong with this--
Goddamn them! Help me!
Hurry, London, hurry! Keep them out!
What are you doing, London? They'll break the windows!
What if they turn us over?
What kind of commando are you? Get it started!
There's the river. Yeah, that's it.
Means we're near the end of this damn trip.
But we've got to follow it all the way down to the mouth.
Once we reach it, we'll take the boat.
We'll have a fairly good chance of completing our mission.
What about the reporters?
We have to take them with us.
Unfortunately. We can't leave them behind.
That would be murder. They'd never survive.
Look at those bushes. They're full of those friggin' monsters.
London: Come on. Let's get moving.
Okay, get the motor to the dinghy.
Don't bring anything that isn't absolutely indispensable.
From now on, it's every man for himself. Hope for the best.
Do I know how to navigate? I was practically born on a fishing boat.
Cut the cackle. Let's get this thing launched.
Hey, we've got visitors.
Come on, you mothers! Do you walk on water?
What's the plan now?
I don't know what we've got to do yet.
But first we have to make sure that the coast is clear.
One thing is certain: We'd better stick together if we're going inside.
Somewhere there should be a freight elevator to the upper levels.
Okay, I'll go take a look.
This is where it all began, the whole thing, huh?
Shh, shh! Quiet!
Okay. Let's go.
Here it is. Go call the others.
That way. Come on, Lia.
Who's over there? What happened?
I heard some funny noises in the back there.
Stay near the elevator. Look out!
Bastards! Die, damn you! Die!
I'll kill you!
I'll kill you! Die, you friggin' son of a bitch!
You friggin' monsters! I'll kill you all!
Blow you to pieces!
I'll send you back to hell, where you came from!
Get back! Get back!
You won't get me. You can't have me!
Come on, hurry. We have to find another way out!
Come here! Come on! Let's get away from here!
Keep your eyes open.
Die, damn you! Die!
We have to go on.
Give me a hand.
Let go of me! Wait for me here.
Man's voice: Experimental project Operation Sweet Death must be considered a complete failure.
Some kind of degenerative process has begun which may be catastrophic for everybody.
May God forgive us for what we have produced here and pardon us for this evil we have created.
The vapor is spreading everywhere.
What is it?
All these high-powered installations, like a factory from a future world, safely hidden on an island, isolated and remote.
It all begins to make sense.
Now I can piece together the whole puzzle.
What are you talking about?
They were called Hope. They were centers of chemical research for the good of mankind, to help countries that are still underdeveloped.
That was the cover, the official story, while the reality was terrible, unbelievable.
They were working on a solution to the problem that most torments the industrialized countries: the overpopulation of the world.
Dispose of the weak elements, the most defenseless, the most numerous, in the simplest possible way: just cause them all to eat each other.
Man on TV: Professor, there's been a lot of talk lately about curious things happening all over the world.
Would you care to comment on this for our audience?
There's not much I can tell you at the moment.
Our inquiry into the subject has just started.
Yesterday, for instance, in the research center of the university, I was examining a cadaver which had a quadruple amputation-- no arms or legs.
While we were working, to our complete surprise, it opened its eyes.
It was dead, but it opened its eyes and began to move.
Interviewer: Then it wasn't really dead.
Professor: From the pathological-- Eh, science fiction.
What a load of crap. Let's go.
You hear that? The dead coming to life.
No, he's serious. Watch.
Ah, nuts. It's bull.
Man: Ah, come on. You promised.
Woman: Sure, but what's your hurry?
Man: That's what you do to me.
Oh, I think we'd better go home now.
My home or your home?
Well? Don't go on like that.
We'll each 90 to our own home. Trust you to ruin everything.
If I let you do it now, you won't marry me.
How about giving me a light? No.
Okay, I'll go ask that guy over there.
He's probably drunk. Leave him alone.
Why? I bet he's nicer than you are.
Anyhow, he's asleep. I think.
I'll give you a light. Don't bother him. Come on.
Too late. You should've decided sooner.
Excuse me, sir. Do you have a--