Exploring the Hills: The Making of 'The Hills Have Eyes 2' Page #2

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with the scorpions. Understand me?

- What do I use for t.p., sir?

- Use your f***ing hand.

Yes, Sarge.

Yo!

Colonel Redding?

Sh*t!

Stupid bats!

No gas, sir, but I found this.

Satellite phone. Must have been

how they contacted base.

- I don't think it's working.

- Damn, somebody's got a temper.

Oh, mine's all buttoned up, Sarge.

Nobody's home.

- Whose radio is that?

- Must be one of theirs.

Wilson. Han.

Are you there?

Hello.

Who the f*** is this?

This is Sergeant Jeffrey Millstone

of the U.S. National Guard.

Who is this,

and what's your position?

I need help.

Are you in distress?

F***. Spitter, what's the range

on these things?

Couple miles.

Line of sight.

Sarge!

Looks like a signal mirror.

It's got to be him.

We're on a search and rescue mission.

- That's right we are!

- Shut the f*** up!

I said search and rescue,

not f***ing spring break.

I want you back here with weapons

and gear for a climbing assault in five.

- Yes, sir.

- Yes, sir, Sarge.

Do you think it's a good idea going up

there without contacting headquarters?

Do you like f***ing with me, Napoleon?

I think you do.

You know what?

You're officially in charge

of guarding the latrine. . .

. . . not using it, but guarding it.

I want you to stand on one leg and

hold your rifle over your f***ing head. . .

. . . and make sure that no one

steals or molests that Port-a-Potty.

Or I will have your Gomer Pyle

ass court-martialed immediately.

Do you understand what I am saying

to you? Do you understand me!?

Yeah, I'll go.

I just think that it's a bad idea.

- Go and guard that f***ing latrine, now!

- Sir, yes, sir!

- Live ammo or blanks?

- One live mag each weapon. It's heavier.

Flashlights and hydration packs, too. The

more weight, the better for you clowns.

You're halfway through your training and

you look like a bunch of raw recruits.

You're a disgrace

to the U.S. National Guard. . .

. . . and wouldn't last five minutes

in combat!

One leg, Gomer Pyle!

The rest of you. . .

. . . get your asses up that hill and wipe

those silly smiles off your faces, now!

Let's move!

One leg, Pyle! One leg.

You're so bad.

- Company halt! Johnson!

- Sir?

You stay here.

Spitter's coming with us. Get on the

main radio and try to raise somebody.

If you can get through to a medvac,

the guy'll have a hell of a better chance.

Now move.

Yes, Sarge.

Don't forget to write.

Get going! Turn around!

One leg!

- When I grew up my momma said

- When I grew up my momma said

If I wasn 't in the Army then I'd be dead

If I wasn 't in the Army then I'd be dead

I told her "Look at me now, Mom"

I told her "Look at me now, Mom

That's what happens

when you miss the prom"

One leg, Gomer Pyle!

Mayday, mayday. This is

the National Guard Yankee Five Niner. . .

. . . calling the Yuma Flats Base

requesting a medvac, over.

Hello?

Sh*t.

Mayday, mayday. This is the

National Guard Yankee Five Niner. . .

. . . calling the Yuma Flats Base

requesting a medvac, over.

What the hell are scientists doing

way the hell out here?

There's nothing but rocks

and rattlesnakes.

Army business, dumbass.

And definitely none of your business.

- But, Sarge, I am in the army.

- Which gives you the right. . .

- . . . To shut the f*** up.

- Okay, I'll just shut the f*** up then.

How many people

are supposed to be here?

I have no idea.

Maybe we can ask him up there.

What are we supposed to do

when we find this dude?

That depends on how bad he is. We wait

for a medvac or hump him down by hand.

I know I'm not supposed to talk,

Sarge, but I hope he--

- Sh*t, man!

- Help!

I got you!

Come on. Pull him up.

I got you, Mickey!

Oh, sh*t!

Hello.

- Sh*t.

- You saved my life, Sarge.

Yeah, well, nobody's perfect.

- How far down does that thing go?

- China?

Could be a hundred feet deep,

a hundred years old.

Just waiting to suck your ass in.

So keep your eyes open.

There's a lot of old mines around here.

How's your ankle, Mickey?

Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine.

Let's go.

- We cannot afford to slow down.

- Hey, come on, Sarge. Let's go.

- Head back to base camp.

- Come on, Sarge.

Mick, back to camp. Now.

That's an order.

What the f*** is everybody looking at?

Let's keep moving.

Screw it.

You're not supposed to do that.

Duty calls.

Mayday, mayday, this is the

National Guard Yankee Five Niner. . .

. . . calling the Yuma Flats Base

requesting a medvac, over.

Mayday, mayday, this is the National

Guard Yankee Five Niner. . . .

. . . calling the Yuma Flats Base

requesting a medvac, over.

Oh, f***! F***!

- What?

- There's a hand in the shitter!

- What?

- Check it out!

F***ing. . . .

There's nobody in there.

Down there.

- Who was that guy?

- Shitman the barbarian, I have no idea!

Help me!

- Oh, man.

- Oh, God.

I can't tell one rock from another.

It was between those three.

Seems like that's the only way up.

Right there.

- That ain't so bad.

- No, man.

Not so bad at all.

If you're a f***ing squirrel.

What's with all these cuts?

I don't know.

Who did this to you?

They're here.

Who's they?

None of the cuts were that deep.

- Massive infection.

- What?

Sh*t stinks because

it's full of pathogens.

Whoever did this to him,

wanted him to die slowly.

What kind of person

could do that to someone?

I honestly don't know.

Let's go, Delmar.

There you go.

Pick your spots!

Find the creases.

You got it. You got it.

Keep going, soldier.

There you go.

That's what I'm talking about, Delmar!

All right! All right!

All right!

Spider-Man.

You are officially a bad motherf***er.

Stump, you're up next.

The rest of you get your asses ready!

All right, Stump, let's go.

Let's get it going.

Where'd you go from here, Delmar?

Love you, Mommy.

Take your time

but pick your spots, Stump.

- A**hole!

- Easy. Sarge says we're moving out.

Well, make some noise next time

you come up behind me!

Yeah, whatever.

I'm just the messenger.

Chicks, man.

Hello. Hello, over.

Hello! Hello, over.

Can you get through to them?

Radio sucks.

Hello! Sarge? Anybody?

Holy sh*t!

- Oh, my God.

- Oh, no, no, no, no!

- God.

- Sh*t!

What are you doing?

F***!

- What?

- Where's your rifle?

Oh, God. It's gone.

Oh, God!

- Let's just get up there.

- No, we're not going up that hill.

I'm not hiding down here and waiting

for them to come down.

What? You scared?

It's not about being scared.

It's about not making idiotic

and possibly fatal decisions.

Right, forgot who I was speaking to.

The same genius who got his

whole squad blown to hell.

Didn't you hear what he said?

Someone is here.

You wanna die like him?

Let's just get up with the others.

Hello, Sarge?

Hello, Sarge!

Hello? Sarge? Anyone?

Can anybody out there read me?

- Napoleon!

- What?

I don't know--

Amber!

Napoleon!

I hit him?

Mickey! Mickey!

Hey, who was that?

Mickey, something's going on.

Oh, God. Are you all right?

Yeah, I just twisted my ankle.

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