Predators Page #2

PREDATOR:
What is it?

Nothing.

PREDATOR:
What is it? Nothing. Nothing.

Nothing.

We're gonna need a new plan.

Where are we going?

Someone put us on this rock.

There's got to be a way off it.

What the f***?

You know what? F*** this.

This is bullshit, man.

I want a gun.

Come on, man,

you got two motherfucking guns, man.

Somebody give me a gun.

Come on, Russian.

You got a big f***ing gun.

Come on, man.

Give me a gun.

Give me your gun. Right now.

Give me your gun.

I'm ready to die.

Are you?

Oh.

EDWIN:
Help!

Oh, sh*t!

Oh, sh*t!

Oh.

Sh*t! F***!

Help!

F*** you! F*** you!

Looking good there, boss.

Go! Go!

Come on. Come on.

Oh, sh*t!

Come on!

No!

MOMBASA:
As bad as you are,

those things are worse.

So they... They just, what, left?

ISABELLE:
No.

The whistle.

They were called.

All right, listen up.

Everybody do a shell count.

We got to conserve ammunition.

Reload. Do it now.

Excuse me.

Just what the hell is going on here?

We're being hunted.

The cages. The soldier. All of us.

All brought here for the same purpose.

This planet is a game preserve.

And we're the game.

In case you didn't notice,

we just got flushed out.

They sent the dogs in,

just like you would if you

were stalking boar or shooting quail.

They split us apart and they watched.

Testing us.

How do you know this?

Because

that's what I would do.

Fantastic.

Wait.

There are only seven of us.

CUCHILLO:
Help me!

Help!

Help.

- Wait.

- What?

It's a trap.

CUCHILLO:
Help me.

F*** me.

CUCHILLO:
Help.

MOMBASA:
Wound one man.

Make him suffer.

Make him bleed.

Make him call out for help,

and set a trap and kill those who come.

I know because I have done this.

So we're gonna leave him here, right?

Come on, look at him. He's done.

There's nothing else we can do, right?

Right?

We leave him.

I can't.

Then, that's on you.

CUCHILLO:
Help me.

PREDATOR:

Help me.

PREDATOR:
Help me. Help me.

It's a trap. It's a trap. It's a trap.

What are we gonna do?

We should go to higher ground.

Really?

We're trapped on an alien hunting planet.

You really think the solution

is to walk more?

It wants us to run.

That's how it hunts.

This is its jungle.

Its game.

Its rules.

We run,

we die.

ISABELLE:
What's the alternative?

We need to know who we're dealing with.

Dog tracks go that way.

We go after it.

ROYCE:
Well?

No movement.

STANS:
It looks like we're not

the only things being hunted.

Holy sh*t!

STANS:
What the f***?

What the f*** is that thing?

This is a mistake. We have to leave. Now.

Where is the tough guy?

ISABELLE:
He left us.

He's here.

Run!

ROYCE:
Run! Run! Run!

You set us up.

He led us into that death camp,

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