Death Race: Inferno Page #2

couldn't I,

by winning one more race

and I'm free.

Wow. You'll never make it

to the finish line, mate.

Trust me on that.

You lose, you live.

You win, you die.

Okay, get out!

Let's go, move!

Bring that jackhammer here.

Get in the line!

Get moving!

Boy, take a look at those!

Move your f***in' arse.

Who's that?

Hey, Goldberg!

Yeah, that's right.

I'm a big fan. But we've got

our own b*tches down here.

I don't know why you

brought yours along.

Hey, let me give

you an autograph.

Move! Move!

Let's take this f***ing joint!

Kill them all!

- Set up a perimeter now.

- On the ground, now!

Sh*t!

Get up!

Are you hurt? What?

Lucas.

It always was you.

You son of a b*tch!

We thought you were dead.

So it's always been

you behind the mask.

Yeah, it's a long story.

So what kind of deal

did they make, huh?

I didn't have a choice.

Whatever it was, it included

getting your face fixed.

I saw it.

I was there.

Did you, Goldberg?

Or did you just see what

they wanted you to see?

What did they want us to see?

That is no deal.

You never needed

to make a deal.

All you had to do was win five

races in a row and you're free.

Those are the rules.

There are no rules

in the cage, Lists.

At least none that

benefit the cage.

Believe what you want,

Goldberg.

But I don't think it's wise, right

now, that they see us together.

Welcome to hell.

Keep moving, don't stop!

Come on!

Come on, come on,

come on, come on.

Welcome to Kalahari Prison.

You dare try and escape,

the desert will kill you before we do.

Come on, move!

You all right?

Close the gate.

Hey, Goldberg.

She's bigger and better.

Way bigger.

Way better.

I've been through

more sh*t in my life

than most people

go through in 10.

But what I never did was

lie or betray my friends.

Doesn't matter what

your intentions were,

your secret would have

been safe with us.

We could've helped.

You know better than that.

Helping me comes with a price, and

I wasn't about to let you do that.

You believe in curses?

This thing.

It comes with one.

You should've trusted us.

Let's go, Lists.

Live from Kalahari

Prison in South Africa,

this is Death Race

Navigator Wars.

Featuring 16

of the most beautiful,

ruthless and lethal

convicts alive,

including an IRA terrorist,

a contract killer,

even identical twin

serial killers.

But all eyes will be

on Katrina Banks,

the gorgeous copilot of

the notorious Frankenstein.

This is a match to the death.

The only rule, survive.

What the hell is happening?

Good evening and welcome to a

special pre-Death Race event.

Sixteen beautiful,

yet deadly women,

vie for 10 spots

as Death Race navigators.

These ladies will battle to

the death to see who's worthy

to navigate in

tomorrow's Death Race.

After the first three minutes,

pressure plates activate

a variety of lethal weapons.

The fight ends when

Katrina's statistical probability

of survival is very low.

And the Swedish twins aren't

gonna fight each other.

Plus, Katrina's celebrity

will attract more attention.

That changes the odds.

So, what are you saying?

Seven to 10%.

Best case scenario.

Dim the lights.

The carnage is about to begin.

Katrina, kick some ass!

Do I know my audience or what?

That's reality TV sh*t.

Come on.

Yes.

Pressure plates are now active.

Go in tighter.

Go in tighter.

Get me a close-up!

Kill!

Do you want some

popcorn with that?

I don't need...

Get to the weapons, Katrina!

Come on, cook her ass!

Camera five, close-up!

Katrina Banks.

I'm gonna f*** you up!

Take this!

Good work, good work!

Watch out!

You love me to death!

No!

Oh, man, I really thought both

twins were gonna make it,

the way they hyped 'em

up and all, you know?

Never believe your own hype.

Don't miss that shot!

Ten women remain who'll compete

as navigators in tomorrow's Death Race.

Fighters are convicted violent felons.

Acts should not be duplicated at home.

Relax, Prudence. There's

nothing for you to fear here.

They may be ruthless,

vicious murderers and rapists,

but they've taste

enough to ignore you.

It's race time, motherfuckers!

Don't touch me. I'm feeling a

little fragile this morning.

Come on, let's go.

Come on!

Good to see you, too.

Drop dead.

Come on, move! Good idea.

But I already tried that.

Next!

Next in line.

Next!

Nice. Thank you.

Another one. Next!

What do you think you're

putting inside of me?

Let him go. He's just doing

what he's told to do.

Unlike Terminal Island,

there are no walls here.

We didn't want our drivers

dashing for their freedom.

This will tell us exactly

where you are at all times.

So, I go off-course,

what happens?

You're not familiar with the German-made

Iris-T Infra-red Smart missile?

No.

You go off-course,

and you will be.

Just as there's

no escape from Kalahari,

there is no escape

from Death Race.

Well, ain't that somethin?

Mr. York. While you are here, I want you

to know that I am at your disposal.

Anything your heart desires,

consider yours.

Anything?

Please do take a seat.

Streaming live from the

Kalahari Prison in South Africa,

home to the most ruthless and violent

criminals the world has ever seen.

Niles York presents Death Race.

Eleven drivers will compete

over three brutal days

across one of the most

dangerous terrains on Earth

for a chance

at the ultimate prize.

Win five races,

win your freedom.

Lists?

There's a speaker and mic

here, so no more headsets.

But the weapon trigger's

still in the same place.

Okay.

There are no shields out here.

Only offensive weapons.

Weapon locations are marked on the

map, indicated here on the tablet.

Now, remember, you have to drive

through, not over, to activate.

You think this thing's

gonna be like a Baja race?

The only thing

I know about Baja,

it's a style of tacos I like.

Goldberg,

I'm gonna need you on this one.

I got your back.

Three things

you gotta worry about.

Razor.

He'd rather kill us than win.

Nero.

Checkered flag has nothing

to do with winning.

Okay.

So what's the third?

Third,

it's that beautiful girl

sitting next to you.

Let's get it ready

for an online broadcast.

Let's make a tight MCU.

Camera 15, 10 and eight.

Thanks.

Gotcha.

Katrina.

Don't.

I don't wanna hear it.

You're my nav-girl.

You, do you speak English?

I speak English,

you f***ing idiot.

Let's just f***ing

win this race.

Wow, this is gonna be great.

The first official

race of this kind

started in Tijuana, Baja

California on October 31st, 1967

and was called the NORRA

Mexican 1000 Rally.

The course length that year was

and ended in La Paz,

Baja California Sur, sir.

The overall winning time

was 27 hours, 38 minutes

set by Vic Wilson

and Ted Mangels

while driving

a Meyers Manx buggy.

Who're you talking to?

Thought you'd appreciate some

relative historical perspective.

Well, you thought wrong.

Set the lights.

Number 10, pan to your left.

All eyes are on Frankenstein,

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