In the Grey Page #4

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put the f***ing knife away.

We don't have time for this.

Get the f*** off me!

Hey, Diaz, put the knife away.

Shut up!

Shut up, you chickenshits

make me sick.

Son of a b*tch!

You got that kid

Flannery killed

and you're not

gonna get me killed.

Put your f***ing hands up. Let

me show you how this is done.

Put your f***ing hands up.

F***! You motherf***er!

You cut this sh*t out.

Do you hear me?

Get up, get up, get up.

What the f***?

What did it want?

You.

Diaz, please don't do

that sh*t to me again.

All right?

No mas.

It was bullshit.

I'm sorry.

I'm so...

Get it off! Get it off!

F***!

Bite me, you f***!

Come here, you f***!

F***!

F***!

Hey, Diaz, I think you got him.

Yeah!

You f***! F***!

I think I lost a nail.

Is that the big one?

That big f***er?

It's not the alpha.

It's an omega, an outcast.

They sent it in to test you, Diaz.

Did I pass, b*tch?

Did I f***ing pass?

You f***ing dog.

Let's get a large branch,

sharpen the end of it,

shove it up this thing's ass.

We're gonna cook

this son of a b*tch.

And then we're gonna eat it.

Hey, wolf,

not so tough now, huh, wolf?

- You want it?

- No.

Come on. I got it, I got it.

I don't...

Is this the white

meat or the dark meat?

Make it as black as possible.

Put it there.

Yeah? I know it tastes

like sh*t but, guys,

it might be the last meat

we'll get for a while.

It's gristly, too.

It tastes like sh*t, I know, but

Yeah.

It tastes like dog sh*t.

And I'm much more of

a cat person, really.

Burke?

Yeah?

You all right?

My head's a

little off. I'm...

Sit down, sit down.

...feeling a little dizzy.

That's it.

You think they're watching us?

Yeah, they're watching us.

You f*** with us

and we'll f*** with you.

You hear that?

You're not the animals!

We're the animals!

Come here, you f***er.

Come here, you puppy.

Oh, yeah.

You're a twisted f***. You're wrong for that.

That is wrong.

Nothing's f***ing... I'm not crazy.

I'm not f***ing crazy.

You f***.

That's f***ed up.

I mean, that's f***ed up.

Ah, you try to steal

my f***ing life.

Come on, you f***.

You hear the bones cracking, Diaz.

Come on, that's enough.

F***ing mutt. Come on.

Let him have this.

Little Fido here

wants to go home.

Wants to see his brothers.

Jesus Christ. Stop.

That's what I'm gonna do. I'm

gonna help him get there.

Say goodbye, boys.

Take him back, motherf***er!

We should keep moving.

Those goddamn things

are calling us out.

What the hell are

you talking about, Talget?

Wolves are the only animal

that will seek revenge.

Hey, I don't want to hear

any more about the f***ing wolves,

or you're gonna start

seeing them everywhere.

Burke, how are you doing?

I can't breathe.

I can't keep going.

Ottway, we can't keep going.

We can't stop.

Those things will be all over us.

We gotta keep going.

Ottway,

Burke is hurting here, man.

This will work.

It's a dead end.

They can't get in behind us.

They'll have to hit us

from out front.

Let's build a fire.

That thing still working?

Up to 40,000 feet.

This sh*t had to save somebody

at some point, right?

I keep sitting here thinking.

Even with all

this stuff going on,

we hit the ground

at 400 miles an hour,

and we made it.

Why would we go through something

like that, that crash,

if it wasn't meant to be,

or ordained?

BY Who?

The Almighty?

That f***ing fairy tale?

How about good

old-fashioned blind luck?

Flannery survived that

crash, so did Hernandez.

It don't matter.

Fate doesn't give a f***.

Dead is dead.

Where do you think

those boys are now?

Up in heaven?

Being fitted for wings?

No, I'll tell you

where they are.

They're not. That's where.

They're nowhere.

They're gone.

No, I don't believe it.

I do.

I Wish I didn't.

I really wish I could

believe in that stuff.

This is real, the cold.

That's real.

The air in my lungs.

Those bastards out there

in the dark stalking us.

It's this world that I'm worried

about, Talget, not the next.

What about your faith?

What about it?

It's important.

Emma?

Is she with you guys?

It's okay, big guy.

She's was at the back.

I was speaking with her.

She's...

She's not here.

She's...

Yeah, she's not here yet.

Why don't you...

You tell her that I'm here.

Of course, yeah. Just

lie down, she's coming.

Emma's coming. Yeah.

He's seeing things?

He's hallucinating.

It's hypoxia.

Not enough oxygen's

getting to his brain.

Hypoxia.

Why don't the rest

of us have it?

It depends on the person. Some

people can't handle the altitude.

Who's Emma?

She was his sister.

She died when he was a kid.

My daughter, Mary.

She's got really long hair

almost down to her waist.

In fact, it's the one rule

my f***ing ex respects,

which is that I'm the only

one who cuts her hair.

She does this thing. She'll

come and hover over me.

I'll just be dead asleep,

and she'll start swinging

her head back and forth,

tickling me with

her hair all in my face,

and she'll be

laughing like crazy.

It's a certain type

of laugh, you know,

when the kid goes past laughing

to laughing, like a...

You know, like you

can't really breathe,

sounding more like

an old man than a kid.

I miss the hell

out of that kid.

Yeah.

You should.

You know that?

Those things from your life,

whatever they might be,

make you want that next

minute more than the last.

Make you fight for it.

I just wanna

f*** one more time.

See, you ruined

my story, motherf***er.

No. No, man.

I'm telling a nice little sweet

story about my daughter...

I don't mean to

wreck your sh*t.

I know, I know.

I just can't go out on that last

piece of horrible ass that I had.

You know what I'm saying? A

We shouldn't talk about that.

She was 250, 260.

No sh*t.

The b*tch gave me the clap

like it was gift wrapped.

No, no, no.

No, no, no.

Anyway...

No, I just think

that I would punch out

and that would be my

f***ing swan song, right?

That alone is worth the fight.

That's worth the fight.

My...

My dad was not without love...

Why didn't we catch...

Not ready to.

...but a clichd Irish

motherf***er when he wanted to be.

Drinker, brawler,

all that stuff.

Never shed a tear.

Saw weakness everywhere.

But he had this thing

for poems, poetry,

reading them, quoting them.

Probably thought it rounded

him off, you know.

His way of apologizing,

I guess.

And there was one that hung

over the desk in his den.

It was only when I was a lot older,

I realized he had written it.

It was untitled, four lines.

I read it at his funeral.

"Once more into the fray"

"Into the last good fight

I'll ever know"

"Live and die on this day"

"Live and die on this day"

Storm clouds.

Blizzard?

A good bet.

Based on our luck,

it's a f***ing lock.

Let's bundle Burke up

and dig in against these trees.

The snow's deep enough.

I'm worried if we lose this

fire, we'll all freeze.

Burke, wake up!

Come on. Move your arms!

Let me see you move your arms!

Come on, move!

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