All language subtitles for 2 Legend.Of.The.Bog.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

That's right.

Come on...

Oi!

Have a drink on me.

And a smoke
while you're at it.

Get off!

Bitch!

Yeah.

Give me me boot back,
you swamp slobber.

As I am sure you all know,

bog bodies are the
naturally-mummified remains

of human beings, preserved in
the mineral-rich waters of peat bogs.

They mostly come
from the Bronze and Iron Age

around 2,000 years ago,

but cover a time span
from prehistory

to present day.

They're found all over
Northern Europe,

particularly Ireland and Denmark,

where this example
was unearthed in 1953.

And here's another.

And another.

And another.

Let's move on
to the real thing.

Even though our murder victim
is 2,000 years old,

she can talk to us
through forensic archaeology.

DNA analysis shows
that she was local.

Stomach contents tell us
that she had a rich diet,

and probably died in autumn
when food was plentiful.

Did she suffer?

Well, yes, I'm afraid she did.

Bog bodies often show signs
of ritual torture before death.

Why? What did she do?

Well, I'm just
an archaeologist,

- Miss...
- Reilly. Saiorse Reilly.

...so I can only speculate,

but I believe that some bog bodies

were sacrifices to fertility gods
to ensure a good harvest.

- I think others were being punished.
- For what?

Well, their crimes must have
been the most serious sort.

Something that brought
shame onto the tribe.

These bodies are often found

on the borders between ancient
tribal kingdoms,

effectively a no man's land.

Why?

Well, it's just a theory,

but I think the ancient
people saw the bog

as an evil place,

neither land nor water,
but somewhere in between.

Neither the underworld
nor the living world,

someone killed there
might be trapped

body and soul for eternity.

Do you wanna take a closer look?

Anybody else?

Sorry about that, David.

Everybody, can we please
show our appreciation

for Professor David Wallace?

Sorry. Will you
excuse me, please?

Sorry if the bog body
upset you.

I spend so much of my work
and life surrounded by them

I forget how strange it is
for most people.

Strange might be
an understatement.

Maybe so. We all have
to make a living somehow.

What do you do?

Normally I'm an assistant curator,
but this week I'm a glorified chauffeur

- for some bigwig.
- Who's that?

You.

We shouldn't be here.

No shit, Sherlock.

No, I mean we shouldn't be here.
We should be miles away.

Relax. There's no reason
anyone should suspect us.

If we'd left the B&B
with two days paid for,

people would have thought we had
something to hide. Play it smart.

What, like running out of petrol
when we're trying not

to draw attention
to ourselves?

- Where are you going?
- Where does it look like?

To find gas.
Gotta be a barn somewhere.

- What about me?
- Whatever.

Jesus Christ!

Can't anyone
in the goddamn world

do what they're told?

I said I need those contracts
as soon as I get back.

Yeah, as soon as I
sort out these losers.

Fine.

Look, missus,
we can't go any farther.

This is a taxi, not a bulldozer.
So do you want me to wait here?

Look, Darby O'Gill,
what I will be wanting you to do

is turn your bloody meter off
and sit here.

And then I will be wanting you
to get me back

to civilization, okay?

Jeez, I was only asking, missus.

Jesus, imagine waking up to
that sourpuss every morning.

Still and all,
she has decent structure.

Yeah, with a gobbler that
will strip paint from a tractor.

Bono, I want an excuse

why you dragged me out
of Dublin.

And I wanna know why you're
two weeks behind here.

These houses have
to be up in a month.

Well now, Mrs. O'Leary,
aren't the two things related?

Save your blarney for the pub.
What's the story?

As I was saying, the reason
why we're two weeks behind

is because the ground is so soft.
We need to dig new drains,

or your nice new houses are
gonna be up to your oxters in mud

- by the time we're finished.
- And?

And as this being bogland and has
been since the beginning of time,

a builder's apt to find
worse things than mud.

Holy Mary Mother of God!
Who is it?

It's what is it,
you mean, missus.

It's a bog body.

That's right. He's one of
those yokes in a museum,

a thousand years old.

Fine. He's adorable. Now what
did you drag me down here for?

Before we ring the police...

Wait, no no no.
You phone them,

the next thing you know
the site's shut down

and we're swarming with cops and
archaeologists with preservation orders

and journalists and assholes
with metal detectors.

That's why you should
have just gotten rid of it

and not told me about him
in the first place.

Enough!
Take your digger, dig.

Do something useful for once:

take it, dump it off the lot
where it won't be dug up again

by the next asshole I hire.

Do it!

I told you I saw a roof
in between the trees.

Yeah, well,
I didn't see it.

Oh, my ankle!

Wiggle your toes.

- You feel that?
- Yeah.

Okay, it's probably
just a sprain.

Look, we're nearly
at the trees.

Let's just go back. We can always
spend the night in the car.

Not on that ankle, coz.

Anyway, I don't think
I could find my way back...

not if it gets dark anyway.

Come on,
we'll just keep going.

Look at this.

Will you just drive
through them?

- Do you want me to kill them?
- Fine. The meat here stinks.

Come on, just shoo 'em
out of the way.

Look, missus, you ordered a taxi
driver, not a bleeding cowboy.

Gilligan, if you think you're getting
a tip, you can kiss its ass goodbye.

You can shove your tip,
you old witch.

Look, I just wanna go back
to Dublin, yeah?

That's the first smart
thing you said today.

Look, missus,
I'm sorry about that.

Here, have an old chew of that

and they might move on themselves.

400 calories. There's no way
I'm eating carbs this week.

Look, Sancho,
get back in the car.

Put it in reverse, find one
of those roads we've passed

and let's get
the hell out of here!

Fair enough, but if we get stuck
in a bog, that meter's staying on.

Yeah yeah yeah, fine.

Hello!

Shagging immigrants.
Hey!

Shag off back to where
you come from.

Gaelic.
Did you say "water"?

Did you say...

Hold your arm up.

To the right.

A bit more.

Lovely.

Don't archaeology professors
normally have someone

to do this sort
of thing for them?

Well, this is just
a pet theory of mine

- I want to test before writing papers.
- What is it?

The line we just measured
between this tomb and the next

marks the tribal boundary
between two Bronze Age kingdoms.

The Bog of Cennak runs
right along the border.

So bogs are natural boundaries.
Who wants to live in a bog?

Yeah, the point is if the two kingdoms
wanted to bring people somewhere

to sacrifice them,
punish them,

they wouldn't come
to places like the lake,

big ceremonial places.

They'd go to smaller places,
places where...

The heart of the bog.

Yeah, places like
this were holy.

They wouldn't want to do
their dirty work here.

If we can get into those Bronze Age
minds and actually think of where

they did do the sacrifices, we can
dig there, rather than waiting

for the next turf-cutting machine
to spit out the next bog body.

It's getting late.
Let's get back.

What's the rush?
Why don't we find a nice little pub,

stop off for a bite to eat?

- I don't think so.
- oh, right.

Strictly business.

Something like that.

Business it is then.
On the way back, follow that lane

that runs along the edge of the bog.
I'd like to take a closer look.

Unbelievable!

Oh shit!

I hate this, hate it!

Look, I told you, we should
have stuck to the road.

Yeah, right, whatever.

Look, I'll go see can I find
a farmer with a tractor,

pull us out of this mess.
I'll be back soon, yeah?

Yeah, knock yourself out.
I'm calling another cab.

Hello?
Hello!

Oh, Jesus!

You can get a signal
at the top of Mount Everest.

Five minutes outside
of Dublin, you're screwed.

Hey, where you going?

Wait up!

You walk faster
than you drive, for God's sake.

Come on!

Unusual for an archaeologist
not to like the countryside.

It's where we find
what we dig up.

You dig. I'm a curator. Last time
I looked, the museum was in Dublin.

Are you always this friendly or
are you just being extra nice to me?

- Look, Mr. Wallace...
- Professor Wallace, but...

you can call me David.

Jesus, and you wonder
why I might not like you.

I forgot how opinionated
Irish women are.

Go on then.
Spit it out.

You come swanning back here like
you're God's gift to archaeology.

Maybe I'm not, but at least I
got out, made something of myself.

And anyone who stays here
are bog men?

There's a big world out there,
Saiorse. You should try it sometime.

You might learn something...
like manners.

No, I'll tell you what,
I'll stay here

and you can bugger off back
to your lecture tours

with your big head
and your manners

and all the silly wee girls
who laugh at your jokes.

Oh, yeah... cow.

- What did you call me?
- Cow!

My God, doesn't anybody
live in this goddamn country?

Would you want
to live in this place?

My plane is taking off for Chicago
and I'm stuck here with you

in the middle of the Irish
"O'Pocalypse Now".

First the cows, then you
get me bogged down.

You're driving me crazy,
Miss Daisy.

Hey, what's that over
there over the trees?

Civilization, huh?

God, if they just have a toilet,
a tractor and telephone,

they can be goddamn
Aborigines for all I care.

- Lead on, MacDuff.
- I'll MacDuff you.

Look at this place.
It's not even worth invading.

What a... Oh, God!

Sorry.

Poor thing.

Well, I think
I'm all right.

Not you, the cow!

How the hell am I getting
over this thing?

- Wait a minute.
- Will you come on?

Hey hey hey!

Back off!

Watch where
you're hitting.

Jesus, will you
take a look at this dump?

You ever see the "Texas
Chainsaw Massacre"?

Is that the one with the squinty
three-way bollocks playing the banjo?

That was "Deliverance," asshole.

- oh.
- Hello!

- Hello.
- Hello.

We are so happy
to see you.

Not as glad as we are
to see you.

I didn't think
you'd find us so quickly.

I'd hardly call it quick.

I mean, getting through
that swamp in your backyard.

So how did you know
where to come?

Where else do you go for help
in the middle of a goddamn swamp?

Bollocks.

You mean you guys
didn't come to find us?

Come on, you're telling me
the only mud hut in the middle

of the goddamn swamp, it's already
booked out with lost people?

- Another Yank.
- Tell me there's a phone, please.

Oh, yeah, and there's a
taxi stand out back too.

No problem.

I brought my own.

Well, you might
as well come in.

Jesus Christ!

Jesus!

Hey, Mr. Muscles, we just saw
you out there with the big top.

Your stilt-walkers were shite.
We want our money back.

Hey, mister!

- I was only...
- I don't need your help.

I just need you to find
a way out of here.

Well, it's not
as easy as that.

Not even for Mr. I-Spent-
Half-My-Life-Digging-in-Bogs?

People spent all their lives
living in a place like this,

they still don't know
all the tracks.

And in the Bronze Age, they used
to put pathways of bog oak

stuck underneath the surface
that only the tribe knew about.

If any member of the tribe
told the secret of the tracks,

- they'd be weighed down...
- Save it for your lecture.

Come on.

Told you I'd find a way out.

You didn't have a bloody clue.

Hello.

Hi, we are a little lost.

Is there any chance
we could use your phone?

At least you're not more Yanks.
Join the party.

No way. That's mad, isn't it?
What's the odds of that?

Pretty amazing, but not
so amazing we all end up here.

People always go
to where people lived before.

I'm interesting in going
where people live now.

Between us we can
make it back to the road.

No offense, but I've spent
months on digs in bogland

and the smart thing to do
is wait until the morning.

It's hard enough seeing pools
and paths in daylight.

Maybe you wanna spend
the night in this toilet,

but there is no way that
I am gonna do that, okay?

Look, none of us do,
okay, but he's right.

Mallory can't walk.

Hey, Barbie, maybe
you didn't get the memo,

but we are not the Six Musketeers.
I am out of here.

We will call for an ambulance

when we get a signal.
Deano, come on. Chop-chop!

Look, you can tell my taxi
where to go, not me.

I'm staying here, eh?

What is it with this country? No wonder
you've never amounted to anything.

I mean, you people
have no gumption.

You needed us
to invent the potato.

Could do with
a baked spud right now.

Shelter first,
then fire, then food.

First rule of survival.

Thank you,
Crocodile Dundee.

Would you ever shut up?

Whatever has to be
done here, we'll do it.

Yeah? Right?

Right?

Yeah?

Hey, you know my motto,

one for all and all for one.

Having a nice munch, are you?

- Hey, you gave it to me.
- All for one and one for all.

Oh!

Well, Mr. Survivor.

Man make fire!

You're too late.
He was already here.

If you say so.

He didn't speak English either.

The short-ass porker with
the red nose and the big shoes?

Coco or Bobo or whatever.

Look, mister, we don't need
any more posters.

We've enough posters as it is.

Of course, the boss got
the two free tickets now.

If you manage to find two more,
maybe I could find some space

down by the beans
for another one.

Hold on a second, mister.

Buy first and drink later, yeah?

And take the top off
like a good Christian.

No no, please.

Please, please.

No!

No!

I'm sorry about that.

Take as much
as you want.

What's a bottle of water
between friends?

I don't suppose the
shower contraption is working.

Madam's shower awaits.

Your towel, ma'am.

Stay on the other side
of the door. Thank you.

I shall guard your modesty
with my life.

Yeah, and I'll be out here
selling tickets

for the blind.

Modesty, my ass.

Saiorse!

Who are you?

Well, I'm not Goldilocks, am I?

Hunter.

Mr. Hunter to you.

Seeing as you lot are making
yourself nice and cosy in my place,

I think I should be asking
the questions around here.

- Look, we're just...
- Lost.

- Yeah, how'd you guess?
- I've been tracking you for five miles.

You've scared every bit of game
of mine away from here to Killarney.

Look, we're...

sorry about that.

You will be.

Is there any chance you can
help us find a way out?

In the morning.

Now maybe one of you ladies
wants to serve dinner.

I'm having a shower...

...if there's any water left.

Get out of here.
No autographs.

Water.

Have you got a manager?

You want water?
I'll give you better than water.

Put hairs on your chest.

Jesus, mister, we're not trying
to break in, honest.

Are you Mr. Muscles?

He isn't Coco,
the shagging clown now, is he?

I want...

- What's he saying?
- I think he wants water.

He must have been practicing
fire eating and cocked it up.

Over there, mister, if you don't
mind sharing with Sugar.

Dinner's served.

Dinner's served.

You won't die from that.

So tell me, mister...

Hunter.

I was just wondering
if you live here all the time.

What do you think I am,
a caveman?

Lovely place to get
away from it all.

Something like that.

Look, we're just really
lucky that you found us,

so now if you could just kind
of point us toward civilization?

There's more civilization
in here than most cities.

Certainly used to be.

I'm an archaeologist,
specializing in bog bodies.

Well, you're in the right place.

There's more bodies in this
bog than most cemeteries.

- How come?
- Punishments, sacrifices,

accidents... so much
good stuff here.

Yet almost every day another stretch
of bog is destroyed by developers.

Look, do you think we
could change the channel?

I doubt it.

Sorry, what would
you like to talk about?

Any of you in the market
for a new house?

Not me.
Just visiting.

Same here.

Not unless it's half price
and then tariff free.

Come on,
someone must have a story.

Whatever happened
to the Irish gift of the gab?

You got everybody
else's probably.

Everybody has a story.

What's the maddest
thing you ever done?

Right, then.

The maddest thing I ever done
was get chased by the cops.

Had this regular fare,
Dublin Hospital...

decent lady expecting twins.

So we're going down
Ball's Bridge.

Next, she starts to have the babies
right there in the backseat.

- Swear to God.
- So what happened?

Put the pedal down, through
a red light, in and out of traffic.

Anyway, by the time
we got there,

there was three
cop cars chasing me.

Barely made it.

What were the babies,
boys or girls?

- Huh?
- Boys or girls?

I don't know.

By the time the cops let me out,
she had them and gone.

Never saw her again.
And do you know what?

50 quid cleaning bill
for the backseat,

and I didn't even get a tip,
swear to God. Tsk.

We've got one,
don't we, Mallory?

Back home,

we were driving past this lake

and we saw this little boy

standing out on his own
by the shore.

About a mile down the road
Mallory says stop the car.

There's something strange
about a kid so young

out there on his own
with all that water.

So we turn around
and head back.

You tell 'em, Mal.

So we went back.

The boy was only
three years of age.

We asked him what
he was doing there alone

and he pointed at the water.

There was a man floating there,
so we jumped in.

- No, you jumped in.
- Look, who's telling this story?

Anyway, we got him out
and gave him the kiss of life.

Turns out the boy's father
had taken him fishing,

had some sort of epileptic fit
and fallen in.

- Did he survive?
- I think so.

The ambulance came along and
that was the last we saw of them.

I can still see
the little boy's face.

And what about you?

You a hero too?

No, not me, mate.

Nothing to report but digging up
2,000-year-old murder victims.

What about you?

I saved a fella's life once.

Help me, help me.

He was up here hunting,

had an accident.

I carried him out,

seven miles on my back
to the nearest road.

What happened?

He died.

Jesus. Everybody loves
a happy ending.

Well, not if you spend
your life working with bog bodies.

If it wasn't for good old murder,
I'd have nothing to dig up.

I dug up one of your pals.

When?

A couple of years ago.

- What did you do?
- I called the cops.

They probably gave it
to some guy like you.

- Where was this?
- Wicklow.

When exactly?

What is this,
Guantanamo Bay?

I know every bog body
dug up in the last 20 years.

Cavan Man,
Clonakilty Man.

If you found something
and didn't report it...

Look, I don't see
what the fuss is about.

Whatever it is,
he's been sitting there

under the water
for 2,000 years.

Nobody gave a rat's ass about it,
so what's the big deal?

We learn about the future
by looking at the past.

Unless the past is dug up
and destroyed by some Philistine.

- Screw you!
- It's not about us.

It's about them.

They deserve
a decent burial at least.

Not if you were one of the
tribe that put them there.

It was a way of locking them in.

- What do you mean?
- They were put there as a punishment.

Their body unable
to fade back to dust;

Their soul unable to
reach heaven or hell.

There's a special place
in hell reserved

for whoever put them there
in the first place.

Okay, that's it.
I've had it.

I am not staying here
and listening

to Mr. and Mrs.
Crypt Keeper all night.

I have places to go.
I have people to see.

I am out of here now.

- Don't be daft.
- It's pitch black out there. Don't go.

If you're so worried about me, how
come nobody's coming along with me?

Okay, well, I guess I don't
have a lot of packing to do.

It's been lovely.
I'll be seeing you.

Look, missus, you may be a pain
in the heart, but you're my fare.

So you're gonna
come with me?

I am.

Go through the clearing,
stick to the path.

If you get lost,

keep the water on your left,

platforms on your right.

Road's about three miles up
there on the right-hand side.

St. Christopher.

Patron saint of bog men
and taxi drivers.

What the hell was that?

It's a vixen.

It's their mating season.

Foxes crying are supposed

to be the origin
of the banshee legend.

It's getting a bit late
for ghost stories.

Where the hell's he going?

The sooner we get
out of here, the better.

There's something weird about
someone being here on their own.

Maybe you'd find it
strange if you came home

to find your house
full of strangers.

You can bed down
on this tonight.

I'm going hunting.

We'll leave first thing
in the morning.

Good night.

'Night.

What is it?

I dreamt I was back.

Back where?

Nowhere.

Thanks.

Will you come on before our
Goldilocks up there leaves us behind?

Good riddance.

So much for them sending
someone back to find us.

- If they ever got out.
- oh, come on. It's not that hard.

Not in daylight with someone
who knows the way,

but at night on their own? They
could have gone around in circles.

Wait.
Call them back.

- Incredible.
- What is it?

It's a bog trail.
This wood is 2,000 years old.

In the Bronze Age tribes would build
these tracks and then cover them up.

It meant they could
move around fast

while their enemies got
stuck going in circles.

- For God's sake, put a sock in it.
- I'm serious!

This is the first one I've found
in 10 years. We have to follow it.

I don't know that part of the bog.

Just give me half an hour to map it
out. It's still pretty early, yeah?

- I have to follow it.
- I'm sticking to the path.

- I'd suggest you do the same.
- Hey, no offense,

but did you happen to notice that
my cousin here can hardly walk?

Let alone go wandering off
on some expedition.

I have to follow it!

I'll catch up with you.

What am I supposed to do? Tell my
boss I left his visitor in a bog?

Not necessarily.
You can help me. Here.

Grab that.
Help me mark out the path.

For someone who's desperate
to get out of here,

you're sure in a rush
to get lost again.

Well, we're not.

Come on.

No good.
I've lost the trail.

You just stay here
until I find it again.

Deano!
Deano, it's all right.

What happened?

Where's Val?

She wouldn't listen.
She just wouldn't listen.

She started to run,
then nothing.

Nothing.

Mr. Hunter, wait up!

She's stuck!

She's stuck.
Keep pulling.

Come on, Mallory.

What the hell is that?

Val.

How could a dead body hold
on to someone? It's impossible.

Nothing's impossible here.

Get her back to the hut
before the hypothermia sets in.

No! We have to get out of here.

Look, you take Deano
up to the road and get help.

We'll take Mallory
back to the hut.

Come on.

We need to get her back
to the shack.

Keep her warm until
Hunter gets there.

- He's not coming back.
- Says who?

Oh, come on!

After Val and Deano left

who was the only other one
to leave the house?

- Hunter.
- And who found Mallory

even though none of us
saw where she fell in?

But he was the one to free her.

Free her from what?
A dead body?

Listen, sister, where I
come from, dead people

don't grab a hold of you
outside the movies.

- We have to trust him.
- Trust him to do what?

What do we know about
this guy apart from the fact

that he runs around up here
in the dark with guns?

Here.

Either he's out
of here for good,

or he's gonna finish
what he started.

What do you mean?

First Val, then Deano,

then us.

Look, one of you's gotta go
for help. I can't leave her.

Come on, let's get her up.

I think you're wrong.

If he wanted to hurt us,
he could have hurt us last night.

He's a hunter, for God's sakes.

Hunters hunt.

You saw it too?

Damn right.

What are they?

Bog bodies.

- What do they want?
- Revenge mainly.

Why do you come here?

To hunt them
and then bury them.

Jesus Christ. And I thought
I had a crap job.

C'mere, do you remember last
night when we were telling stories?

Not particularly.

Yeah, well, mine wasn't
exactly true.

So what part wasn't true?

All of it.

I made it up to keep another
story out of me head.

I was with this Gyp old girl.

- Traveller?
- Yeah, well, settled traveller.

I was driving her out to
some shithole of a caravan

so we cut ahead to the bog.

She had a bit to drink.

So we're nearly there
with 30 quid on the meter

and she said to me
she hadn't been paid.

So I'm about to kick her
out of the taxi.

Next of all she said "Mister,
I'll pay you another way".

So I went 50-50.

40 seconds later
we're in the back of the taxi.

- occupational hazard.
- Yeah.

She said to me I owed the 20 quid
because it was a crap shag.

So I lost it... "Get out,
get out of me taxi!"

So she's yelling.

So I slammed the door, turned
up the radio and off I went.

About 40 miles down the road
I heard this thumping noise.

So I said to myself,

"Jesus, bitch must have
slashed one of my tires".

Aw, shit!

Only it wasn't a tire.

It was her.

She must have caught her jacket
in the back door when I slammed it.

Dragged her all the way.

It was horrible.
I tried to do something,

but she was well dead.

- It was an accident.
- Yep.

Who's gonna believe me
it was an accident?

And even if they did, I was
in trouble with the cops before.

So you had to get rid of the body.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

This path leads up to the road...

hopefully the one you
got stuck on.

Have you heard a word I said?

Everybody has stories.

Counting me.
Get the hell out.

Mr. Hunter?

Can I ask you a question?

Do you think I should
have told them

the real story
about the traveller girl?

I'm a hunter not a priest.

Pull that bed down.

It's out. How long will it
take you to start a fire?

Sorry, I know I said
I used two sticks.

I forgot to mention
one of them was a match.

Just get on with it.

Yes, a hole in one!

So you're not the only hero
on this bog, Mr. Hunter.

We used the last of the turf. There
should be some dry wood up there.

She needs more than heat.
She needs a hospital.

- Deano will be back soon.
- I'm not waiting any longer.

And if you won't go, I will.

You don't even know the direction.
If Hunter was planning on hurting us,

why would he show us
the right way out?

Who said it was the right way?

I'm gonna follow your bog trail.

For God's sake,
it's 2,000 years old.

- Who knows if it goes anywhere?
- Everywhere goes somewhere.

And I'm gonna walk
or crawl or swim

until I can find help for Mallory.

I swear...

if she dies before I get back,
God help you!

Come on, Betsy!
Come on, Betsy!

Come on!

Come on, Betsy.
Come on!

See anything?

Yeah, she's gone
to find a path out.

I meant the turf.

Oh, right.

These should keep it going.

There's some food left.
You should eat.

No thanks.

Do you think
they'll come back?

- Yeah, they have to.
- And if they don't?

And if they don't, one of us will
have to walk out tomorrow

while the other stays
with Mallory.

No. Promise me
we'll stay together.

Why couldn't you have
said that in the car?

Then we would never
have hit the cow.

And I'd be in Dublin thinking
how great it was

to have gotten rid
of that pompous asshole.

I'd be on a plane chatting up
some hot stewardess.

Oh well. Better luck next time.

I don't want a next time.

I want this time.

No!

Get off me!
No!

Please, no, get off me!

No!

It wasn't him.

No! He was trying
to communicate!

No!

Come on, get out.

Come on.

There's no point
you keep looking out there.

He won't come till it's dark.

Oh, yeah? If you know so damn much,
how come so many people are dead,

and we're hiding in a shack that
looks like he could blow it open

without even breaking
into a sweat?

I didn't invite you lot here.

What?

You mean you want
this shit to happen?

What sort of a man are you?

I'm a hunter.

This thing isn't some trophy you
can stick up beside your antlers.

You saw what happened
when you shot it.

I don't know what it is, but if it
ever was human, it isn't human anymore.

He's a big 'un, all right.

Just how many of them
have you seen before?

- This is the third.
- The third?

And what happened
to the other two?

I buried 'em.

Oh, no.

You gotta keep 'em
away from the water.

Part of him wants
to die, go to sleep.

The other part wants to live.

And it'll do anything it can
to stay out of the darkness.

It was moving towards me.

He didn't wanna hurt me.

For somebody who studied
these for so long,

you don't know much
about them, do you?

He was trying
to get you in close.

He wanted to watch you die.

It's all about revenge.

Who the hell are you,
some lunatic,

hiding in this shack
with a handful of bullets?

You two stop arguing.

Hannah... where's Hannah?

She's gone to get some help.

Just hang in there.

One of us has to go out.

You know the way.

I've been waiting years to have
another crack at one of these.

And I'll tell you something:

I'm gonna drop it.

Completely mad.

This whole thing
is just completely mad.

So do you wanna help me

or do you wanna find
your own way out of here?

I thought so.

I've set up a few
surprises for it.

Hang in there.

She's dead, isn't she?

She was a good person.

I'm sure she was.

Good people can do
bad things.

Just rest now.

I'll have plenty
of time for rest.

I need to tell you something.

What?

The real story.

We were just driving along.

I was feeling guilty
because it was raining.

Isn't that stupid?

And I thought we were lost.

She kept shoving the map
in my face.

That's why I didn't see him.

Who?

This old man.

A turf-cutter.

He had this spade,

like the ones
you see in museums.

Thin long blades.

It's called a slane.

He hit the windshield.

I knew he was dead.

His legs were all twisted.

I wanted to get him
to a hospital.

You know the way on TV
sometimes they're able

to bring people back to life?

Only on TV.

That's what Hannah said.

She kept going on about college

and her future and how we'd be
wasting the rest of our lives

for no reason.

What did you do?

I couldn't touch him.

So Hannah dragged him

to the side of the road

and handed me
the long spade.

Just rest.

He's at peace now.

I don't think so.

When I close my eyes,

I can see him in the dark
waiting for me.

Hannah's there too.

Look,

we're taking you out
of here tomorrow.

All you have to do
is hang on until then.

Did she say anything?

No.

What's that for?

It's bait.
They love water.

- Why are you here?
- 'Cause I'm a hunter.

Don't give me that crap.

We're all here
for a reason.

I just don't know
what it is yet.

Well, listen, Professor,

Val dug up a bog body

and dumped it.

And, Deano, he dragged a poor
Gypsy girl down a lane with a car.

He dumped her.

And Mallory said her and Hannah
knocked into an old man

and buried him in the turf.

I didn't kill anyone.

Maybe they think
you know too much.

And what about you?

Your story about rescuing
somebody all bullshit too?

I did try and rescue him.

Help me, help me.

Help.

Don't let me...

Help me.

Why?

Because he could have lived.

Because it seemed
a good idea at the time.

Or maybe because I'm
just a very very bad man.

- I don't think...
- Shh!

Game on.

Come on!

Come on, hit it!

Come on, hit it!

Come on, hit it!

Come on.

Come on! Make for the shack.

Go!

Help, it's out here.
Open the bloody door!

Come on, will you?

- How long was I out?
- An hour maybe.

The door!

I blocked it.

But if it can't keep you out...

Hunter.

- Mallory.
- She's dead.

I thought you were too.

I almost was, thanks to you.

Believe me, I'll kill you.

I've done my best
to save you the trouble.

- We have to help him.
- Why?

Because the only reason we're still
alive is that we aren't like the rest.

They all had a secret.

They all killed someone
by mistake and tried to hide it.

- We didn't.
- No.

I did it deliberately.

When I was 13,

my mother went to live in England.

My dad left when I was born,

so she sent me to live
with my Uncle Desmond

and Aunt Alice

in a place not much
better than this.

Aunt Alice was
a powerful woman for praying.

She spent all day

scrubbing the floor
of that cottage

and all evening
on her knees at church,

praying for her husband's soul.

When she left, he used to come in.

He'd startle me.

First it was just a touch.

That made me throw up

and it made him angry.

I tried to tell Auntie Alice,
but she just slapped me in the face,

and started going to church
during the daytime as well.

When he knew she was gone,

he'd come in from the fields...

every day.

Every day.

Eventually...

I had a baby.

They didn't even know
I was pregnant.

At least they pretended
they didn't.

And I didn't know
what was going on.

It was born still and quiet,

and I was glad.

I didn't want it waking up
feeling what I felt every day.

So I ran away through the fields

and into the bog
to find somewhere to bury it.

But he caught up with me.

Come out, Saiorse.

Don't be afeared.

When he saw that there was no baby,

he threw me to the ground.

He was gonna do it again

and again and again

till the bog was full of my blood.

I had a knife

I used to bury the baby with.

So I used it.

Shh.

Shhh.

You were only a little girl.

You were saving your own life.

Do you still think
everyone deserves saving?

You do.

And maybe, yes, even Hunter.

Let's do it.

God Almighty.

Oh my God.

Saiorse!

No blood.

Oi!

Fire and water.

- What?
- Fire, water.

- David!
- Fire, water!

- Fire and water.
- What?

Fire and water.
They need water to survive.

Maybe the fire's been
what's keeping them out.

Fire, water.

Fire, water.

Dinner is served.

Come on, I've got you.

I'm sorry.

Let's go home.