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Compare The Long Walk Movie to Novel

These are scenes from the movie that are taken directly from the novel. Parts of scenes that are not in the novel, or vice-versa, have a grey background.

Arrival with mom
MOVIE	NOVEL
GINNIE: I just... GINNIE: I still don't understand. I think you could probably still change your mind. I don't think it's... GARRATY: The back-out date was yesterday. GINNIE: But they would let you. I know it. The Major, he would... GARRATY: The Major would what? You know what the Major would say. This is my decision, okay? Not yours. This is the best way. It's the only way. GINNIE: If your father was here... GARRATY: Okay, but he's not. SOLDIER: ID, please.	GINNIE: There's still time to change your mind— GARRATY: No, there's no time for that, The backout date was yesterday. GINNIE: They'd understand, I know they would. The Major— GARRATY: The Major would— You know what the Major would do, Mom. This is my idea, Mom. I know it wasn't yours. I— I love you, but this way is best, one way or the other. GINNIE: It's not, Ray, it's not, if your father was here, he'd put a stop to— GARRATY: Well, he's not, is he? Let it go now, Mom. Okay? Okay. One of the guards, an expressionless young man in a khaki uniform and a Sam Browne belt, asked to see the blue plastic ID card. The boy in the back seat handed it to his mother. His mother handed it to the guard. The guard took it to a computer terminal that looked strange and out of place in the rural stillness. The computer terminal ate the card and flashed this on its screen: GARRATY RAYMOND DAVIS RD 1 POWNAL MAINE ANDROSCOGGIN COUNTY ID NUMBER 49-801-89 OK-OK-OK The guard punched another button and all of this disappeared, leaving the terminal screen smooth and green and blank again. He waved them forward. GINNIE: Don't they give the card back? Don't they– GARRATY: No, Mom. GINNIE: Well, I don't like it.
Cookies
MOVIE	NOVEL
GINNIE: I made you these. Oatmeal chocolate chip, your favorite. GARRATY: Thanks, Mom. Garraty stuffed the foil package with the cookies into his pants pocket. That evening Garraty took out the foil wrapped cookies his mother gave him, and ate some	GINNIE: I made these. You can take them, can't you? They're not too heavy, are they? She thrust a foil-wrapped package of cookies at him. GARRATY: Yeah. ...stuffing the cookies into the pocket of his fatigue jacket. Later: he thought of the cookies his own mother had given him–pressed on him, as if warding off evil spirits. Later: Garraty took out his cookies, and for a moment turned the foil package over in his hands. He thought homesickly of his mother, then stuffed the feeling aside. He ate a cookie and felt a little better.
Be a good boy
MOVIE	NOVEL
GINNIE: Be a good boy, okay? GARRATY: Okay, I will. Okay. GINNIE: Okay.	GARRATY: G'bye, Mom. GINNIE: Goodbye, Ray. Be a good boy.
Garraty and McVries meet
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: Hey, uh, I'm Ray Garraty. McVRIES: Pete. Peter McVries. GARRATY: Nice to meet you. You ready for this? McVRIES: A little jumpy... GARRATY: Yeah. McVRIES: ...but maybe that's good? Hey, what do you weigh? GARRATY: 178. McVRIES: I'm 177. They say heavier guys get tired quicker. GARRATY: Shit.	McVRIES: Hi. GARRATY: I'm Ray Garraty. McVRIES: I'm Peter McVries. GARRATY: You are ready? McVRIES: I feel jumpy. That's the worst. What do you weigh? GARRATY: Hundred and sixty. McVRIES: I'm one-sixty-seven. They say the heavier guys get tired quicker, but I think I'm in pretty good shape.
Meeting the Muskateers
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: Look at Superman. McVRIES: Yeah, he built. GARRATY: No body fat on that guy. Jesus. He's gonna be tough to beat. Hey, what's your name? STEBBINS: Stebbins. OLSON: Jesus, Stebbins. You some kinda fitness nut? McVRIES: Well, I don't think he wants to talk. OLSON: Yeah, all right. Fine by me. I don't give a shit. OLSON: Hank Olson's the name. Walking's my game. GARRATY: Uh, I'm Ray Garraty. You can call me Ray. McVRIES: Peter McVries. You can call me McVries. BAKER: I'm Art Baker. Pleasure to meet y'all. McVRIES: It's fucking terrifying, ain't it? BAKER: Yeah. I ain't trying to think about it too much. Just want to walk and maybe make some friends. GARRATY: Hey. Hey, are you okay? CURLY: Me? GARRATY: Yeah. You're pacing. Are you okay? CURLY: I'm just getting warmed up. McVRIES: You have a few hundred miles to get warmed up when we start. What's your name? CURLY: Curly. GARRATY: Okay, Curly. How old are you? CURLY: Eighteen. OLSON: Yeah. That kid lied to qualify. Kid, if you're a day over 16, I eat my fucking shoes. Look at him. Poor fucker doesn't know what the fuck he's doing here. Now, me? I know exactly what the fuck I'm doing here. Gotta be aggressive. I... I did my research on the Major. He says you wanna win this thing, you gotta be raring to rip. Fuck, boys, I am raring to rip. (in the novel, this is the advice the Major gives Olson) McVRIES: Fuck, boys, I am raring to rip. OLSON: Hey, fuck you. McVRIES: Just sound like what you said, asshole. BARKOVITCH: Raring to rip. Yeah. You sound like my... my meemaw on the bowl in morning, man. Right, guys? OLSON: The fuck is a "meemaw"? BARKOVITCH: Fuck you. I was just fucking around.	The boys he and McVries had sat down next to were talking. OLSON: I'm not hurrying. Why should I? If I get warned, so what? You just adjust, that's all. Adjustment is the key word here. Remember where you heard that first. (in the movie, Olson says "I gotta adjust" when his leg muscles feel baggy) He looked around and discovered Garraty and McVries. OLSON: More lambs to the slaughter. Hank Olson's the name. Walking is my game. Garraty offered his own name. McVries spoke his own absently, still looking off toward the road. BAKER: I'm Art Baker McVRIES: Kind of scary, isn't it? They all nodded except Hank Olson, who shrugged and grinned. OLSON: You see that spot right by the marker post? That's from the Long Walk the year before last. Kid was so scared he just froze up at nine o'clock. Just couldn't move. He took his three warnings and then at 9:02 AM they gave him his ticket. Right there by the starting post.
The Major arrives
MOVIE	NOVEL
BAKER: Hey, here he comes. HARKNESS: Shit on a stick. It's the Major. MAJOR: Sit down, boys. Keep hint 13 in mind. OLSON: Hint number 13. That's conserve energy whenever possible. (in the novel, the omnicient narrator gives this info) McVRIES: Yeah, shut up, Olson. We all read the rulebook. MAJOR: Now, as I call your name, step forward and take your tags. Put 'em around your neck, and then go back to your place until I instruct otherwise. MAJOR: Ewing, James. Number one. Smith, Patrick. Number four. Barkovitch, Gary. Number five. Baker, Arthur. Number six. White, "Curly" Adam. Number seven. Sanders, Rank. Number 19. McVries, Peter. Number 23. Stebbins, Billy. Number 38. Good luck, son. Olson, Hank. Number 46. Garraty, Raymond. 47. Parker, Collie. Number 48. Harkness, Richard. Number 49. MAJOR: Fellas, line up by fives, in no particular order. Boys, it takes heavy, heavy sac to sign up for this contest, and you've all got it. You're men now. As you all know, our country has been in a period of financial struggle since the war, and we did the first Long Walk all those years ago to inspire and reintegrate the value of work ethic. Each year after the event, there's a spike in production. We have the means to return to our former glory. Our problem now, is an epidemic of laziness. You boys are the answer. The Long Walk is the answer. When this is broadcast for all the states, your inspiration will continue to elevate our gross national product. We will be number one in the world again! ALL: Yeah! MAJOR: Now, uh... I'm not going to go through the whole rulebook, but it boils down to this. Walk until there's only one of you left. Maintain a speed of three miles per hour. If you fall below the speed, you get a warning. If you can't make speed in ten seconds, you get an additional warning. Three warnings, you get your ticket. Walk one hour at speed, one warning is erased and so on. If you step off the pavement, you will get your ticket without warning. The goal is to last the longest. There's one winner and no finish line. Any of you can win. Any of you can do it if you walk long and steady enough. If you refuse to give up. I look at each and every one of you, and I see hope. Now, boys, who's set to fucking win? MAJOR: I said... who's ready to fucking win? (ALL CHEER) MAJOR: Luck to all, and remember, anyone can win.	BAKER: Here he comes. MAJOR: Sit down, boys. Keep Hint Thirteen in mind. Hint Thirteen was "Conserve energy whenever possible." (in the movie, Olson speaks this hint) MAJOR: I'm not going to make a speech. I give my congratulations to the winner among your number, and my acknowledgments of valor to the losers. MAJOR: When I call your name, please step forward and take your number. Then go back to your place until it is time to begin. Do this smartly, please. OLSON: You're in the army now MAJOR: Aaronson. Abraham. Baker, Arthur. BAKER: That's me. GARRATY: Did he say anything to you? BAKER: He asked me if it was commencing to come off hot down home. Yeah, he ... the Major talked to me. OLSON: Not as hot as it's gonna commence getting up here. MAJOR: Baker, James. MAJOR to GARRATY: Good luck. OLSON: I told him to keep a lot of money on short call. And he told me to give 'em hell. OLSON: Said he liked to see someone who was raring to rip. Give 'em hell, boy, he said. (in the movie, Olson got "raring to rip" from reading about the Major) McVRIES: Pretty good. Then three soldiers from the halftrack passed out wide belts with snap pockets. The pockets were filled with tubes of high-energy concentrate pastes. More soldiers came around with canteens. They buckled on the belts and slung the canteens. Olson slung his belt low on his hips like a gunslinger, found a Waifa chocolate bar, and began to eat it. OLSON: Not bad. MAJOR: All right, fellows, line up by tens, please. No particular order. Stay with your friends, if you like. McVRIES: Well here we go. Good luck, everyone. GARRATY: Good luck to you. McVRIES: I need my fucking head examined. MAJOR: Luck to all.
Why are there no crowds?
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: Thought there'd be more people, I guess. BARKOVITCH: Major, he doesn't allow spectators until the final stretch. Except for the fucking locals.	GARRATY: Why don't they let people watch the start of a Long Walk? BARKOVITCH: Spoils the Walkers' concentration.
Garraty is from downstate
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: What is that? Is that a wheat field? GARRATY: Best in the world. BAKER: Are you from here? GARRATY: Yeah, I'm from downstate. McVRIES: Ooh, so you the one. GARRATY: What do you mean? BAKER: The one what? McVRIES: Mr. Garraty here is the walker from the home state.	McVRIES: Potatoes, they tell me. GARRATY: Best in the world. BAKER: You from Maine? GARRATY: Yeah, downstate.
Barkovitch removing a stone from his shoe
MOVIE	NOVEL
SOLDIER: Warning. Warning, number five. BARKOVITCH: I got a rock in my fucking shoe. McVRIES AND OLSON: Whoa! OLSON: What the fuck is he doing? Holy shit! McVRIES: What the fuck? SOLDIER: Warning, number five. Second warning. OLSON: Fuck, he's still fucking down there! McVRIES: What's he doing, man? OLSON: Holy shit! McVRIES: Go on, get up! GARRATY: Get up, Barkovitch. OLSON: Jesus Christ! That dumbfuck's actually gonna get his fucking ticket. McVRIES: Hey, come on, get up, man. Stop playing. SOLDIER: Warning, number five. Third warning. GARRATY: Get the fuck up, Barkovitch! McVRIES: Come on, man. OLSON: Dumbfuck. McVRIES Idiot. (BARKOVITCH JOGS TO CATCH UP TO GROUP) OLSON: Dumbass. (BARKOVITCH RETURNS TO GROUP) PARKER: Better not trip, fucko. (Olson says this in the novel) BARKOVITCH: Y'all don't even know. Just bought myself a rest. OLSON: All I see is that for your lousy 30-second rest, now you gotta walk three goddamn hours without getting a warning. The hell you need a rest for, anyway? We just fucking started. BARKOVITCH: We'll see who gets his ticket first, fuckwad. It's all part of my fucking plan. OLSON: Yeah, well... his plan and the stuff that comes out of my asshole, bear a suspicious resemblance.	SOLDIER: Warning! Warning 5! BARKOVITCH: I've got a stone in my shoe! Barkovitch stopped completely and took off his shoe. He shook a tiny pebble out of it. SOLDIER: Second warning, 5. He smoothed his sock carefully over the arch of his foot. OLSON: Oh-oh. Stebbins, still at the tag end, walked past Barkovitch without looking at him. Now Barkovitch was all alone, slightly to the right of the white line, retying his shoe. SOLDIER: Third warning, 5. Final warning. OLSON: Oh, boy, that dumb shit, he's gonna get his ticket. But then Barkovitch was up. He paused to brush some road dirt from the knees of his pants. Then he broke into a trot, caught up with the group, and settled back into his walking pace. He passed Stebbins, who still didn't look at him, and caught up with Olson. He grinned, brown eyes glittering. BARKOVITCH: See? I just got myself a rest. It's all in my Plan. OLSON: Maybe you think so. All I see that you got is three warnings. For your lousy minute and a half you got to walk three ... fucking ... hours. And why in hell did you need a rest? We just started, for Chrissake! BARKOVITCH: We'll see who gets his ticket first, you or me, it's all in my Plan. OLSON: Your Plan and the stuff that comes out of my asshole bear a suspicious resemblance to each other. Baker chuckled. With a snort, Barkovitch strode past them. OLSON: Just don't stumble, buddy. They don't warn you again. They just ... (Parker says this in the movie)
Stebbins testing the limit and jelly sandwich
MOVIE	NOVEL
SOLDIER: Warning. Warning, number 38. OLSON: Smart. McVRIES: What's smart? OLSON: Taking a warning while he's still fresh. He gets an idea of what our limit is. McVRIES: Yeah, it seems pretty fucking dumb to me. OLSON: Well, big boy's gonna have no problem walking an hour without getting another warning. Then he'll have this one taken off to have a clean slate. That's a good strategy. GARRATY: Hey, you think it's smart stuffing your face with all those jelly sandwiches this early?	SOLDIER: Warning! Warning 88! It was Stebbins. Stebbins was 88. OLSON: Smart. GARRATY: What? OLSON: The guy takes a warning while he's still fresh and gets an idea of where the limit is. And he can sluff it easy enough—you walk an hour without getting a fresh warning, you lose one of the old ones. You know that. (Stebbins jelly sandwich is mentioned 5 times in the novel but Garraty never confronts him about it)
Talking about the Prize
MOVIE	NOVEL
BAKER: What you boys think about the wish, and the big prize? Personally, I can't stop thinkin' about all that money. GARRATY: Rich men don't enter the kingdom of heaven. OLSON: Oh, wow. All right, Hallelujah, Brother Garraty! There'll be refreshments after the meeting. BAKER: Are you a religious fella, Garraty? GARRATY: Uh, no, not particularly, but I'm no money freak either. BAKER: Okay. Look, I'm a religious fella. I ain't ashamed to admit it. I'm here for the money. Know it's easy to bad-mouth money when you ain't grown up dirt poor in Baton Rouge. Believe me. Growin' up dirt poor in Baton Rouge, it ain't no picnic. It's one big, sweaty hog-fest. GARRATY: Listen, I wouldn't mind havin' some money, but... there's more important things. This Walk doesn't matter, and the prize, it certainly doesn't matter. McVRIES: What? That's some bullshit, Garraty. GARRATY: Okay. All right, well, look at it like this. When the system backs people into a corner, points to an escape hatch, and says, "That's the only way out." Of course, we're all gonna try to go through it. We've been set up to believe it's the only way, the honorable way. I mean, even though only 50 of us get picked in the lottery, all of the boys in this country put in for it. I'm not exaggerating. Everybody puts in for it, even though it's not required, 'cause we're all so fucking desperate. What does that tell you? McVRIES: What? GARRATY: Nobody signs up for this. Not really. STEBBINS: It's not smart to talk bad about the Long Walk. That's dissent, and it's punishable by... GARRATY: Arrest me. McVRIES: You gonna arrest him? (CHUCKLES) Didn't think so. No, no, no, you got a point, Garraty. They say we have a choice to sign up for the lottery, but do any of you know anyone ever who hasn't? Exactly. But I don't agree with you about money. Baker's right. It may not be the most important thing, but it's pretty fuckin' high up there. The right person could do a hell of a lot of good with the right amount of money. GARRATY: Yeah, but how many people do you know with a hella lotta money who are doin' a hella lotta good? In my opinion, it's a myth. McVRIES: Won't be a myth when I win. That's exactly what I want that money for.	BAKER: What do you think about the Prize? GARRATY: I don't see much sense thinking about it. BAKER: I think about it. Not so much the Prize itself as the money. All that money. GARRATY: Rich men don't enter the Kingdom of Heaven. OLSON: Hallelujah. There'll be refreshments after the meetin'. BAKER: You a religious fella? GARRATY: No, not particularly. But I'm no money freak. BAKER: You might be if you grew up on potato soup and collards. "Sidemeat only when your daddy could afford the ammunition. GARRATY: Might make a difference. But it's never really the important thing. McVRIES: You can't take it with you, that's your next line. GARRATY: It's true, isn't it? We don't bring anything into the world and we sure as shit don't take anything out. McVRIES: Yes, but the period in between those two events is more pleasant in comfort, don't you think? GARRATY: Oh, comfort, shit. If one of those goons riding that overgrown Tonka toy over there shot you, no doctor in the world could revive you with a transfusion of twenties or fifties. BAKER: I ain't dead. GARRATY: Yeah, but you could be. What if you won? What if you spent the next six weeks planning what you were going to do with the cash—never mind the Prize, just the cash—and what if the first time you went out to buy something, you got flattened by a taxicab? BAKER: Not me, babe. First thing I'd do is buy a whole fleet of Checkers. If I win this, I may never walk again. GARRATY: You don't understand Potato soup or sirloin tips, a mansion or a hovel, once you're dead that's it, they put you on a cooling board like Zuck or Ewing and that's it. You're better to take it a day at a time, is all I'm saying. If people just took it a day at a time, they'd be a lot happier. McVRIES: Oh, such a golden flood of bullshit. GARRATY: Is that so? How much planning are you doing? McVRIES: Well, right now I've sort of adjusted my horizons, that's true— GARRATY: You bet it is. The only difference is we're involved in dying right now.
McVries tries smoking
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: Smoke? GARRATY: No, I'm okay. McVRIES: Yeah, I don't smoke neither. Figured I'd learn. GARRATY: Hmm. OLSON: Hey. Hey, hint 10? Save your wind. If you smoke ordinarily, try not to do so on the Long Walk. McVRIES: (COUGHING) Who cares? Will you shut the fuck up, Olson? GARRATY: It is crap, though. It is crap. McVRIES: It is pretty shitty. Anyone else want this? I don't smoke. BAKER: Bring it here, man. GARRATY AND McVRIES: Ohhh! GARRATY: A religious fella smokes, does he? BAKER: Hey. Hey, ain't nothin' in the Bible about no tobacco, now. McVRIES: Really? GARRATY: Okay. McVRIES: Let me give you a light.	McVries fumbled in his pocket and came up with a package of Mellow cigarettes. McVRIES: Smoke? GARRATY: I don't. McVRIES: Neither do I. He then put a cigarette into his mouth. He found a book of matches with a tomato sauce recipe on it. He lit the cigarette, drew smoke in, and coughed it out. Garraty thought of Hint 10: Save your wind. If you smoke ordinarily, try not to smoke on the Long Walk. McVRIES: I thought I'd learn. GARRATY: It's crap, isn't it? McVries looked at him, surprised, and then threw the cigarette away. McVRIES: Yeah, I think it is. OLSON: Could I have a cigarette? McVRIES: Yeah. You can keep the pack.
I'm Harkness, I'm writing a book
MOVIE	NOVEL
PARKER: Watch where the fuck you're going, you fucking dipshit. HARKNESS: What's his problem, right, boys? Hey, I'm Harkness. GARRATY: Hey, Harkness. HARKNESS: You're Ray Garraty, hometown boy. Number 47. GARRATY: Yeah. HARKNESS: McVries, strong, 23. I... I suppose you're wonderin' why I'm writin' down everybody's names and numbers. McVRIES: Mm-mmm. No, actually, I wasn't wonderin'. BAKER: Maybe 'cause you with the squads. (Olson says this in the novel) HARKNESS: Me? No, no, no. I'm writin' a book, you see? A book about the Long Walk. GARRATY: I see that. HARKNESS: Yeah. Book about the Long Walk from the insider's point of view? Make me rich. McVRIES: Yo, if you win, you won't need a book to make you rich. (in the novel, Garraty says this) HARKNESS: Yeah, I mean, I suppose not, but... still make one heck of an interesting book, I think.	Harkness had a notebook. He wrote Garraty's name and number in it. The script was strange and jerky, bumping up and down as he walked. He ran into a fellow named Collie Parker who told him to watch where the fuck he was going. HARKNESS: I'm Harkness. Number 49. You're Garraty. Number 47. Right? GARRATY: That's right. Harkness had a notebook. He wrote Garraty's name and number in it. He ran into a fellow named Collie Parker who told him to watch where the fuck he was going. HARKNESS: I'm taking down everyone's name and number. I suppose you're wondering why I'm writing down everyone's name and number. OLSON: You're with the Squads. (Baker says this in the movie) HARKNESS: No, I'm going to write a book. When this is all over, I'm going to write a book. GARRATY: If you win you're going to write a book, you mean. (in the movie, McVries says this) HARKNESS: Yes, I suppose. But look at this: a book about the Long Walk from an insider's point of view could make me a rich man. McVries burst out laughing. McVRIES: If you win, you won't need a book to make you a rich man, will you? HARKNESS: Well ... I suppose not. But it would still make one heck of an interesting book, I think. They walked on, and Harkness continued taking names and numbers. Most gave them willingly enough, joshing him about the great book.
The old woman in the black dress
MOVIE	NOVEL
Garraty spots the gaze of an old woman standing in front of a church wearing a black dress	One old lady stood frozenly beneath a black umbrella, neither waving nor speaking nor smiling. She watched them go by with gimlet eyes. There was not a sign of life or movement about her except for the wind-twitched hem of her black dress. On the middle finger of her right hand she wore a large ring with a purple stone. There was a tarnished cameo at her throat.
Curly's / Curley's ticket
MOVIE	NOVEL
SOLDIER: Warning. Warning, number seven. CURLY: I've got a fucking charley horse! WALKER: Shit. Come on, man. Come on. SOLDIER: Warning, number seven... GARRATY: All right, Curly. Come on. SOLDIER: Second warning. GARRATY: All right, just keep it slow. CURLY: Okay. Okay. GARRATY: Just fast enough, and steady, okay? GARRATY: All right? Come on, put your weight on me. Put your weight on me. BAKER: You got this, boy. McVRIES: No fuckin' around, keep it movin'. CURLY: Okay. Okay. Okay. GARRATY: Okay? You're gonna keep walkin'. Listen to Pete, okay? Try to keep walking. You're with us. You're with us. McVRIES: Come on, keep walkin'. Keep walkin'. That's right. That's right. We out here in the sunshine just havin' fun. GARRATY: You’re gonna be all right, okay? CURLY: She's loosening now. GARRATY: Okay, good. Okay, good. CURLY: Yeah. Yeah. GARRATY: All right. See this? You gotta promise me that you're gonna keep walking. CURLY: Yeah, I promise. GARRATY: You promise? CURLY: I promise. I promise. Okay. Okay. GARRATY: All right. All right, you're okay, right? HARKNESS: Come on, kid. CURLY: All right, yeah. Yeah. GARRATY: You're all right? Come on. Come on, stick with me. Stick with me. HARKNESS: Yeah, that's it! GARRATY: Stick with me. HARKNESS: That's it, kid! GARRATY: Stick with me. BAKER: Come on, boy. GARRATY: We're right on pace. McVRIES: Come on. GARRATY: We're right on pace. Stick with me, okay? Just keep walking. McVRIES: Come on, Curly. That's right. GARRATY: Just keep walking, Curly. McVRIES: One, two, three, four. That's it, you got it. GARRATY: Just keep walking. McVRIES: Come on, youngin. GARRATY: Just keep walking. McVRIES: You got it. GARRATY: We just gotta stay at this pace. McVRIES: We good. Come on, now. GARRATY: We just gotta stay at this pace. BAKER: Come on, little boy, you got this, man. GARRATY: Come on, Curly. Come on, Curly. (CURLY SCREAMING) It's just you and me. Come on. Come on, Curly. McVRIES: Eyes up! Eyes up! GARRATY: Come on, Curly. McVRIES: Come on, youngin! GARRATY: Come on, Curly. BAKER: That's it, boy. BAKER: Come on. GARRATY: Come on, Curly, come on! BAKER: You got this! You got this! SOLDIER: Warning, number seven. WALKER: Come on! Keep walking! Get up! SOLDIER: Third warning. WALKER: Get up, kid! McVRIES: Get up, youngin! Get up! CURLY: Oh, it ain't fair! It ain't fair! It ain't fucking fair! (CURLY GETS HIS TICKET)	Then the word came back, and this time the word was about a boy named Curley, number 7. Curley had a charley horse and had already picked up his first warning. Garraty put on some speed and came even with McVries and Olson. "Where is he?" Olson jerked his thumb at a skinny, gangling boy in bluejeans. Curley had been trying to cultivate sideburns. The sideburns had failed. His lean and earnest face was now set in lines of terrific concentration, and he was staring at his right leg. He was favoring it. He was losing ground and his face showed it. SOLDIER: Warning! Warning 7! Curley began to force himself faster. He was panting a little. As much from fear as from his exertions. SOLDIER: Warning! Warning 7! Third warning, 7! CURLEY: I've got a charley horse! It ain't no fair if you've got a charley horse! CURLEY: Thank God! She's loosening! time passed CURLEY: It isn't fair! It just isn't fair! It isn't– Four carbines fired. They were very loud. The noise traveled away like bowling balls, struck the hills, and rolled back. Curley's angular, pimply head disappeared in a hammersmash of blood and brains and flying skull-fragments. The rest of him fell forward on the white line like a sack of mail. Stebbins stepped over the body. His foot slid a little in some of the blood, and his next step with that foot left a bloody track, like a photograph in an Official Detective magazine. Stebbins didn't look down at what was left of Curley. His face didn't change expression. Stebbins, you bastard, Garraty thought, you were supposed to get your ticket first, didn't you know? Then Garraty looked away. He didn't want to be sick. He didn't want to vomit.
Touching the carbine
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: Canteen, 47 callin' for canteen. (GARRATY TOUCHED THE CARBINE WHEN THE SOLDIER TURNED HIS BACK) McVRIES: Hey, why'd you touch that carbine? GARRATY: Like knockin' on wood, I guess. McVRIES: You a dear boy, Ray.	GARRATY: Canteen! 47 calling for a canteen! One of the soldiers jumped off the halftrack and brought over a fresh canteen. When he turned away, Garraty touched the carbine slung over the soldier's back. He did it furtively. But McVries saw him. McVRIES: Why'd you do that? GARRATY: I don't know. Like knocking on wood, maybe. McVRIES: You're a dear boy, Ray,
Hang upside down from the moon
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: You gettin' tired? GARRATY: No. Been tired for quite a while now. What, you mean you're not? McVRIES: Hey, just go on dancing with me like this forever, compadre... and I'll never tire. Hey, we'll scrape our shoes on the stars, and hang upside down from the moon. GARRATY: You a poet, Pete? McVRIES: In days past, I would've liked to have been a... a songwriter. But it ain't those days, so I guess I'm stuck here riffing for you. GARRATY: Hope it's not too bad. McVRIES: Ain't too bad.	McVRIES: Getting tired? GARRATY: No, I've been tired for quite a while now. You mean you're not? McVRIES: Just go on dancing with me like this forever, Garraty, and I'll never tire. We'll scrape our shoe on the stars and hang upside down from the moon. He blew Garraty a kiss and walked away. Garraty looked after him. He didn't know what to make of McVries.
Girl with sign
MOVIE	NOVEL
PEARSON: Hey, bud. You're, uh, Raymond Garraty, right? I'm Pearson. I think you got a secret admirer over there. (in the novel, McVries points out the girl) GIRL: Ray, Ray, I love you! (Magic Marker sign: GO-GO-GARRATY #47 I LOVE YOU RAY! "OUR VERY OWN") McVRIES: Come on, man. She must be like 14. GIRL: I love you, Ray! BAKER: Maybe she just wants your autograph, that's all. OLSON: Hey, I thought spectators weren't fuckin' allowed, 'cause we're on television and shit.	McVRIES: Garraty, My, my, look what you got. (in the movie, Pearson points out the girl) A pretty girl of about sixteen in a white blouse and red-checked pedal pushers was holding up a big Magic Marker sign: GO-GO-GARRATY NUMBER 47 We Love You Ray "Maine's Own." To hell with Hint 13. Garraty ran over to the side of the road. The girl saw his number and squealed. She threw herself at him and kissed him hard. Garraty was suddenly, sweatily aroused. He kissed back vigorously. The girl poked her tongue into his mouth twice, delicately. Hardly aware of what he was doing, he put one hand on a round buttock and squeezed gently. SOLDIER: Warning! Warning 47! GARRATY: Thanks. GIRL: Oh ... oh ... oh sure! OLSON: For that I would have taken three warnings.
Muskateers
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: Come on. Don't be a sourpuss, Olson. The boy's got a fan. Let him have his fun. GARRATY: Thanks, Pete. McVRIES: Hey, don't thank me too much. I like you, but if you fall over, I won't pick you up. BAKER: We're all in this together, right? No harm in keeping each other amused. McVRIES: Do you know what? I take it back. They say you shouldn't make friends on the Long Walk, but fuck it. I sorta like you three. Even you, Olson. OLSON: Fuck off! McVRIES: No, I'm serious. Hey, hey, hey, a short friendship is better than no friendship, right? BAKER: That's what I've been sayin', man. McVRIES: That's what I'm be sayin'. McVRIES: Come on, man. Let's be Musketeers.	McVRIES: Ray. What's your hurry? GARRATY: Thanks. McVRIES: Don't thank me too much. I'm out to win, too. I mean, let's not put this on a Three Musketeers basis. I like you and it's obvious you're a big hit with the pretty girls. But if you fall over I won't pick you up. GARRATY: Yeah. BAKER: On the other hand, we're all in this together and we might as well keep each other amused. McVRIES: Why not?
Olson's leg muscles are turning baggy
MOVIE	NOVEL
OLSON: Fuck! Ah! My legs feel funny. It's like the muscles are all turning baggy. McVRIES: Hey, relax. Happened to me a few miles back. It passes.	OLSON: Hey, My legs feel funny. GARRATY: How funny? OLSON: Like the muscles are all turning ... baggy. McVRIES: Relax, it happened to me a couple of hours ago. It passes off. OLSON: Does it? McVRIES: Yeah, sure it does.
Peddle your papers
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: Hey! Barkovitch, go peddle your papers, little man. Go.	McVRIES to BARKOVITCH: Now go peddle your papers, little man.
I can even get horney for you Ray
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: Probably a nice place to live. McVRIES: God, spare me nice places to live. McVRIES: You know, if I ever get out of this, I'm gonna fornicate till my cock turns blue. GARRATY: Okay. McVRIES: I've never been so horny in my life as I am right this minute. Ain't that strange? GARRATY: It is fuckin' strange. McVRIES: Yeah. McVRIES: Just a little bit, right? GARRATY: Uh-huh. McVRIES: Hey, I could even get horny for you, Ray... if you didn't smell like my mom's asshole. GARRATY: Hey, hey... You're gonna get me a fuckin'... McVRIES: Oh, my God... GARRATY: ...gonna get my ticket... my man. McVRIES: ...that smells so good. Yo, Long Dong Silver, that's me. I'll fuck my way across the seven seas. GARRATY: Hmm. OLSON: Nah. Sinbad. McVRIES: What? OLSON: You're thinking of Sinbad. You know, Sinbad the Sailor? That's the seven seas guy. McVRIES: Did you not hear that I don't give a fuck? I'm trying to fuck. OLSON: Long John Silver lives on fucking Treasure Island. McVRIES: (CHUCKLES) What the fuck? GARRATY: Just a fucking nerdy thing to say, you know? OLSON: What, I'm a nerd 'cause I read fuckin' books and shit? GARRATY: I guess so.	GARRATY: It's probably a nice place to live. McVRIES: God spare me from nice places to live. If I get out of this, you know what I'm going to do? BAKER: What? McVRIES: Fornicate until my cock turns blue. I've never been so horny in my life as I am right this minute, at quarter of eight on May first. GARRATY: You mean it? McVRIES: I do. I could even get horny for you, Ray, if you didn't need a shave. Prince Charming, that's who I am. Now all I need is a Sleeping Beauty. I could awake her with a biggy sloppy soul kiss and the two of us would ride away into the sunset. At least as far as the nearest Holiday Inn. OLSON: Walk. McVRIES: Huh? OLSON: Walk into the sunset. McVRIES: Walk into the sunset, okay. True love either way. Do you believe in true love, Hank dear? OLSON: I believe in a good screw.
Eating raw meat
MOVIE	NOVEL
BAKER: Hey, what is that? McVRIES: This is raw ground venison. It's good energy. OLSON: Oh, God. BAKER: You off your trolley, Musketeer. Gonna puke all over the place.	BAKER: What have you got in that packsack? McVRIES: A fresh shirt, And some raw hamburger. OLSON: Raw hamburger— McVRIES: Good fast energy in raw hamburger. OLSON: You're off your trolley. You'll puke all over the place. McVries only smiled.
Olson needs to adjust
MOVIE	NOVEL
OLSON: Ow! Sh... GARRATY: Hey. Keep up, keep up, keep up. Keep walking. Come on. OLSON: Yeah, yeah, yeah. McVRIES: I'll keep you up. OLSON: I'm all right. It's the... fucking jelly-leg thing. GARRATY: Okay. OLSON: Kinda went away for a while, but it's coming back now. I just don't know what the hell I gotta adjust.	OLSON: I'm not hurrying, Why should I? If I get warned, so what? You just adjust, that's all. Adjustment is the key word here. Remember where you heard that first
How did you get that scar?
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: You know, in the meantime, Pete... wanna tell us about that scar? McVRIES: Baker's right. Maybe we just, um, we keep quiet. GARRATY: Okay.	GARRATY: How'd you get that scar, Pete? McVRIES: It's a long story.
Olson drops his food
MOVIE	NOVEL
OLSON: Shit! Shit! GARRATY: Goddamn it. Hey, hey, hey. OLSON: Oh, God. GARRATY: It's all right. You're gonna get more rations. You're fine. OLSON: Yeah, but... that was it for me today, 'cause... well, I'm allergic to the SPAM. I gave all that shit away. Fuck. Fuckin' hungry. GARRATY: Here you go, Hank. I don't like it anyway. OLSON: Thanks, Ray. McVRIES: Musketeer.	OLSON: I dropped it, I wanted something to eat and I dropped it. I'm hungry. GARRATY: Here. He gave Olson some cheese. Olson didn't say anything, but he ate the cheese. McVRIES: Musketeer.
Rank's ticket
MOVIE	NOVEL
BARKOVITCH: Hey, man, I've been meanin' to ask you, "Rank," is it short for, like, "Ranklin"? Like, "Ranklin Delano Roosevelt" or something? RANK: It's "Rank." BARKOVITCH: Yeah, but what's it short for? I mean, like... RANK: Just "Rank." BARKOVITCH: You're saying your mama named you fucking "Rank"? RANK: Yeah. BARKOVITCH: No fuckin' way. You're fuckin' with me. Your goddamn name is "Rank"? Oh, my fuckin' God, no way! Oh, your mom must've failed with the old coat hanger thing, and she must have just had to take it out on you in some other way. Ooh. Buddy! BARKOVITCH: Ooh. Buddy! SOLDIER: Warning. Number five. BARKOVITCH: Come on, fuckface. You want me to dance on your grave? SOLDIER: Warning. Number 19. BARKOVITCH: I'll do it all day. Oh, shit. Okay. GARRATY: Break it up. BARKOVITCH: I think your mama was givin' out coupons for blowjobs on 42nd Street. I was thinkin' of taking her up on it. What do you think about that? SOLDIER: Second warning. Number 19. (RANK TRIES TO PUNCH BARKOVITCH AND FALLS) WALKERS: Get up, Rank. OLSON: Oh, God. Oh, God! BAKER: Get up. Get up. SOLDIER: Warning. 19. (RANK GETS HIS TICKET) BAKER: Hey, Barkovitch. Hey, Barkovitch! You're not just a pest no more, now you a murderer! BARKOVITCH: I didn't do that shit. I didn't fuckin' touch him. BAKER: You murdered that man! BARKOVITCH: He came after me, man. Shut the fuck up. Hey, look... BARKOVITCH: Fuck off! Okay? Fuck you. All of you. McVRIES: Why don't you go back and dance on him, huh? Boogie on his back a little. Entertain us. McVRIES: I can't wait to see your brains all over the fuckin' concrete, Barkovitch. You know, I'll cheer when it happens. You fuckin' piece of shit.	A moment later Barkovitch began to scream a flood of profanity at the boy next to him, a squat, ugly boy with the unfortunate name of Rank. Rank took a swing at him—something expressly forbidden by the rules—and was warned for it. Barkovitch didn't even break stride. He simply lowered his head and ducked under the punch and went on yelling. BARKOVITCH: Come on, you sonofabitch! I'll dance on your goddam grave! Come on, Dumbo, pick up your feet! Don't make it too easy for me! Rank threw another punch. Barkovitch nimbly stepped around it, but tripped over the boy walking next to him. They were both warned by the soldiers, who were now watching the developments carefully but emotionlessly—like men watching a couple of ants squabbling over a crumb of bread, Garraty thought bitterly. Rank started to walk faster, not looking at Barkovitch. Barkovitch himself, furious at being warned BARKOVITCH: Your mother sucks cock on 42nd Street, Rank! With that, Rank suddenly turned around and charged Barkovitch. Cries of "Break it up!" and "Cut the shit!" filled the air, but Rank took no notice. He went for Barkovitch with his head down, bellowing. Barkovitch sidestepped him. Rank went stumbling and pinwheeling across the soft shoulder, skidded in the sand, and sat down with his feet splayed out. He was given a third warning. BARKOVITCH: Come on, Dumbo! Get up! Rank did get up. Then he slipped somehow and fell over on his back. He seemed dazed and woozy. The third thing that happened around eleven o'clock was Rank's death. There was a moment of silence when the carbines sighted in BAKER: There, Barkovitch, you're not a pest anymore. Now you're a murderer. The guns roared. Rank's body was thrown into the air by the force of the bullets. Then it lay still and sprawled, one arm on the road. BARKOVITCH: It was his own fault! You saw him, he swung first! Rule 8! Rule 8! No one said anything. BARKOVITCH: Go fuck yourselves! All of you! McVRIES: Go on back and dance on him a little, Barkovitch. Go entertain us. Boogie on him a little bit, Barkovitch. BARKOVITCH: Your mother sucks cock on 42nd Street too, scarface. McVRIES: Can't wait to see your brains all over the road, I'll cheer when it happens, you murdering little bastard.
Death by diarrhea
MOVIE	NOVEL
HARKNESS: Hey, hey, hey, have y'all had to poop yet? GARRATY: I'm rationing. Trying to avoid it. HARKNESS: That's smart. Listen... SOLDIER: Warning, number 45. HARKNESS: ...there's something real bad happenin' up ahead. It... It's so gross. I don't even think I can write about it in the book. It might kill the commerciality of it. GARRATY: Commerciality? HARKNESS: Yeah, the overall sales potential, you know, the people... McVRIES: Yeah, we know what it is, man. Oh, okay. Well, listen, word's been coming down the line, this guy Ronald, 45, he's got the shits real bad. (RONALD GRUNTING) SOLDIER: Warning, number 45. Second warning. (RONALD GRUNTING) WALKER 1: Disgusting! WALKER 2: Come on, 45. WALKER 3: Let's go! Keep walking! WALKER 4: Come on, man. (RONALD GRUNTING) WALKER 5: Let's go, man. Get it out. Keep it coming. SOLDIER: Warning, 45. Third warning. RONALD: Damn. PARKER: Hey, idiot! Pull up your fucking pants and walk. WALKER: Come on, man, get up. PARKER: It's better to be dirty than fucking dead. WALKER: Hurry up and fucking walk. Let's go. PARKER: Just let it roll down your fucking legs! (RONALD PANTING) PARKER: Come on, man. (RONALD GRUNTING) PARKER: Let's go. (RONALD GETS HIS TICKET)	At quarter of six the word came back on a boy named Travin, one of the early leaders who was now falling slowly back through the main group. Travin had diarrhea. Garraty heard it and couldn't believe it was true, but when he saw Travin he knew that it was. The boy was walking and holding his pants up at the same time. Every time he squatted he picked up a warning, and Garraty wondered sickly why Travin didn't just let it roll down his legs. Better to be dirty than dead. Travin was bent over, walking like Stebbins with his sandwich, and every time he shuddered Garraty knew that another stomach cramp was ripping through him. Garraty felt disgusted. There was no fascination in this, no mystery. It was a boy with a bellyache, that was all, and it was impossible to feel anything but disgust and a kind of animal terror. His own stomach rolled queasily. The soldiers were watching Travin very carefully. Watching and waiting. Finally Travin half-squatted, half-fell, and the soldiers shot him with his pants down. Travin rolled over and grimaced at the sky, ugly and pitiful.
Wakey, wakey! Rise and Shine!
MOVIE	NOVEL
GINNIE: ♪ In Dublin's fair city ♪ ♪ Where the girls are so pretty ♪ ♪ I first set my eyes on ♪ ♪ Sweet Molly Malone ♪ SOLDIER: Warning. Warning, 47. McVRIES: Oh! Wakey, wakey, my boy. That's you. Rise and shine. GARRATY: What time is it? McVRIES: Uh, it's 3:45. GARRATY: But I... I've been... I... McVRIES: You've been dozing for hours, yep. That's your mind, usin' the old escape hatch. Don't you wish feet could?	GINNIE: Cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o (from same song Mollie Malone, sung in the movie) His half-dozing mind began to slip away from him. Random thoughts began to chase each other lazily across its field. He remembered his mother singing him an Irish lullaby when he was very small SOLDIER: Warning! Warning 47! McVRIES: That's you, boy. Rise and shine. GARRATY: What time is it? McVRIES: Eight thirty-five. GARRATY: But I've been— McVRIES: —dozing for hours. I know the feeling." GARRATY: Well, it sure seemed that way. McVRIES: It's your mind, using the old escape hatch. Don't you wish your feet could?
Steep hill
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: Yeah. What about you, Pete? You got a lady? McVRIES: No, Ray. No, I don't. SOLDIER: Warning, 47. Second warning. GARRATY: Fuck me. Fuck. BARKOVITCH: Uh-oh. You dreaming about your boyfriend's dick in your mouth? Huh? GARRATY: You see something green, Barkovitch? (says this to Olson in the novel) BARKOVITCH: Just your scaredy little fuckin' ass. That's all. BARKOVITCH: Fuckin' hate that fucking guy. McVRIES: Yeah, me too. Just keep walking. (GARRATY TRIPS AND ALMOST FALLS) GARRATY: Oh, fuck. SOLDIER: Warning, 47. Third and final warning. McVRIES: Come on, Ray, listen. Just three hours. GARRATY: Fuck. McVRIES: Just three hours, and your slate is wiped clean. Come on, just keep... GARRATY: Look, shut up, Pete. Shut up! Shut up! GARRATY: Come on, stop acting like you don't want me to get my ticket. I know you're just like the rest of them, man. Stop pretending like you don't wanna see me with a fucking bullet in the back of my head! SOLDIER: Second warning. McVRIES: I was just trying to help. BARKOVITCH: Come on, step into it, brothers! Hey, who wants to race me to the fucking top? PARKER: Shut the fuck up, you fucking freak! Sign: STEEP GRADE TRUCKS USE LOW GEAR	They breasted a long, steep rise SOLDIER: Warning! Warning 47! Second warning, 47! GARRATY to OLSON: See anything green? (says this to Barkovitch in the movie) OLSON: No, course not. Sign: STEEP GRADE TRUCKS USE LOW GEAR BARKOVITCH: Step into it, brothers! Who wants to race me to the top? WALKER: Shut your goddam mouth, you little freak. BARKOVITCH: Make me, Dumbo! Come on up here and make me! BAKER: He's crackin' McVRIES: No, He's just stretching. Guys like him have an awful lot of stretch. OLSON: I don't think I can climb that hill. Not at four miles an hour. The hill stretched above them. They were almost to it now. With the fog it was impossible to see the top. For all we know, it might just go up forever, Garraty thought. They started up. OLSON: I can't do it. I can't do it anymore. SOLDIER: Warning! Warning 70! McVRIES: They're playing your song, Olson. Pick up your feet. I want to see you dance up this hill like Fred Astaire. OLSON: What do you care? LARSON: I'm just going to rest for a while, okay? I can't walk anymore right now, okay? SOLDIER: Warning, 60, Second warning. LARSON: Listen, I'll catch up. I'm just resting. A guy can't walk all the time. Not all the time. Can he, fellas? Hey! Hey, just a second, don't do that, I'll get up. Hey, don't! D– The shot. They walked on up the hill. McVRIES: Ninety-three bottles of beer left on the shelf. Up ahead someone uttered a high, gobbling scream, and then the rifles crashed in unison. BAKER: Barkovitch. That was Barkovitch, I'm sure it was. BARKOVITCH: Wrong, redneck! One hundred per cent dead wrong!
Pour your canteen over your head
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: How you holdin' up? GARRATY: Not good. I feel faint. McVRIES: Compadre, you can do this. Pour your canteen over your head. McVRIES: There you go. There you go. Now keep putting one foot in front of the other. That's it. GARRATY: Okay. McVRIES: Now, refill. GARRATY: Canteen, 47, canteen. GARRATY: You get paid to shoot me, not look at me, motherfucker! McVRIES: Ray. Top of the hill. We made it. McVRIES: Keep moving. Keep moving. You got it.	McVRIES to GARRATY: You all right? GARRATY: Feel faint. McVRIES: Pour your ... canteen over your head. Garraty did it. I christen thee Raymond Davis Garraty, pax vobiscum. The water was very cold. He stopped feeling faint. Some of the water trickled down inside his shirt in freezing cold rivulets. GARRATY: Canteen! 47! One of the soldiers jog-trotted over to him and handed him a fresh canteen. Garraty could feel the soldier's expressionless marble eyes sizing him up. GARRATY: Get away. You get paid to shoot me, not to look at me. GARRATY: Pete? McVRIES: Yeah. GARRATY: Man, I'm glad to be alive.
All he needs is a pitch fork
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: All he needs is a pitchfork.	Near the top of the hill, a rutted dirt road branched off the main drag, and a farmer and his family stood there. They watched the Walkers go past—an old man with a deeply seamed brow, a hatchet-faced woman in a bulky cloth coat, three teenaged children who all looked half-witted. McVRIES: All he needs ... is a pitchfork, and ... Grant Wood ... to paint him.
See my mom/girlfriend in Freeport
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: I think that I'll see her in Freeport 'cause we live there.	GARRATY: I'm gonna see my girl in Freeport
100 miles
MOVIE	NOVEL
MAJOR: Give yourselves due kudos, boys. Let's hear it. You made it 100 miles. That's a goddamn accomplishment! (BANNER READS: 100 MILES CONGRATULATIONS! The Century Club & Chamber of Commerce Welcomes The Long Walkers) MAJOR: Keep on. The prize awaits.	Ten minutes later they passed under a huge red-and-white banner that proclaimed: 100 MILES!! CONGRATULATIONS FROM THE JEFFERSON PLANTATION CHAMBER OF COMMERCE! CONGRATULATIONS TO THIS YEAR'S "CENTURY CLUB" LONG WALKERS!!
When I get tired enough, I'll just sit down
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: You think you'll win, Ray? GARRATY: No, Pete. No, I don't. How about you? McVRIES: I stopped thinking I had any real chance around 11 last night. You know, I had an idea that when the first guy fell off, the soldiers were pointing their guns, and when they pulled the triggers, little pieces of paper with the word "bang" will pop out. The Major would go "April Fools," and we'll all go home. Do you know what I'm saying? GARRATY: Yeah, Pete, I do. McVRIES: Yeah. Yeah, it took me a while to realize the real gut truth of this. This is walk or die... simple as that. Not survival of the physically fittest. If it was, I'd have a good chance, but... There are mothers who'd lift a fucking car if their kid was pinned underneath. The brain, Garraty. Not man or God, it's something in the fucking brain. I don't have that. I don't want to beat people that badly. And I think, when the time comes, when I'm tired enough, I think I'll just sit down. GARRATY: I hope that's not true, Pete. McVRIES: I'll outlast Barkovitch, though. McVRIES: Ah! That I can do at least. GARRATY: We can both do that. (BOTH CHUCKLING)	McVRIES: Do you think you'll win, Ray? GARRATY: No. No, I ... no. How about yourself? McVRIES: I guess not. I stopped thinking I had any real chance around nine tonight. You see, I ... It's hard to say, but ... I went into it with my eyes open, you know? Lots of these guys didn't, you know? I knew the odds. But I didn't figure on people. And I don't think I ever realized the real gut truth of what this is. I think I had the idea that when the first guy got so he couldn't cut it anymore they'd aim the guns at him and pull the triggers and little pieces of paper with the word BANG printed on them would ... would ... and the Major would say April Fool and we'd all go home. Do you get what I'm saying at all? GARRATY: Yes, I know what you're saying. McVRIES: It took me a while to figure it out, but it was faster after I got around that mental block. Walk or die, that's the moral of this story. Simple as that. It's not survival of the physically fittest, that's where I went wrong when I let myself get into this. If it was, I'd have a fair chance. But there are weak men who can lift cars if their wives are pinned underneath. The brain, Garraty. It isn't man or God. It's something ... in the brain. Some of these guys will go on walking long after the laws of biochemistry and handicapping have gone by the boards. There was a guy last year that crawled for two miles at four miles an hour after both of his feet cramped up at the same time, you remember reading about that? Look at Olson, he's worn out but he keeps going. That goddam Barkovitch is running on high-octane hate and he just keeps going and he's as fresh as a daisy. I don't think I can do that. I'm not tired—not really tired—yet. But I will be. And I think ... when I get tired enough ... I think I'll just sit down. McVRIES: I'll outlast Barkovitch, though. I can do that, by Christ.
We like to breathe real air without smog up here
MOVIE	NOVEL
PARKER: What a dipshit state this is. Fucking trees and one-horse towns everyplace. Is there a city in this whole fucking place? GARRATY: You know, it's funny, Collie, we like to breathe fresh air instead of smog. PARKER: (SCOFFS) Ain't no smog in Sioux Falls, you fucking hick. GARRATY: Ah! Right. No smog, just a lot of, what is it, hot air? McVRIES: Now, now, boys. McVRIES: Come on. Let's settle this like gentlemen. First one to get his head blown off has to buy the other one a beer, huh? How about that? GARRATY: I... I don't like beer. PARKER: Fuckin' bumpkin.	PARKER: I never seen such a fucked-up state. GARRATY: If you don't like it, why don't you go on home? PARKER: Stuff it up your ass. Where's the ocean? Looks like I was back in Illy-noy. Shit. What a dipshit state this is. Goddam trees everyplace! Is there a city in the whole damn place? Why couldn't they have the goddam Walk in Illinois, where the ground's flat? GARRATY: We're funny up here. We think it's fun to breathe real air instead of smog. PARKER: Ain't no smog in Joliet, you fucking hick. What are you laying on me? GARRATY: No smog but a lot of hot air. PARKER: If we was home, I'd twist your balls for that. McVRIES: Now boys. Why don't you settle this like gentlemen? First one to get his head blown off has to buy the other one a beer. GARRATY: I hate beer. PARKER: You fucking bumpkin.
Everyone is buggy
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: He's buggy. You know, you seem buggy too, Ray. GARRATY: Hmm. McVRIES: Fuck me. Is everyone buggy this morning? I bet Olson's got bugs too. Hey, Olson. Hey, Hank! BAKER: Hey, come on, come on, McVries. Leave him alone, man. He ain't had a good night. He ain't doing so well, either. McVRIES: Hey, how'd you sleep today? Huh? 'Cause I slept just fucking great. Hey, Olson. You wanna go for a walk? OLSON: Go to hell. McVRIES: Come on. What? What'd you say? OLSON: Go to hell. I said fucking... Go to hell! McVRIES: Just trying to keep it interesting. GARRATY: Hmm.	McVRIES: He's buggy. Everybody's buggy this morning. Even me. And it's a beautiful day. Don't you agree, Olson? Olson said nothing. McVRIES: Olson's got bugs, too Olson! Hey, Hank! BAKER: Why don't you leave him alone? McVRIES: Hey Hank! Wanna go for a walk? OLSON: Go to hell. McVRIES: What? Wha choo say, bo? OLSON: Hell! Hell! Go to hell! McVRIES: Is that what you said.
Harkness gets his ticket
MOVIE	NOVEL
Harkness breaks his ankle on the hill Later SOLDIER: Warning. Warning, 49. HARKNESS: My ankle. My ankle is all twisted up. SOLDIER: Warning. Second warning, 49. GARRATY: Come on, Harkness! Just keep it moving one foot in front of the other. You got this. BAKER: Hey, get out of here! Yeah, you! Get out of here! You don't wanna see this! Scat! (HARKNESS GRUNTS) SOLDIER: Warning. Third warning, 49. Final warning. (TWO YOUNG BOYS WATCHING ON BICYCLES) BAKER: Get out of here, man! (HARKNESS SOBBING) HARKNESS: I... I'm gonna go... go... (HARKNESS GETS HIS TICKET)	HARKNESS: Garraty? GARRATY: Huh? HARKNESS: I got a cramp in my foot, man. I don't know if I can walk on it. GARRATY: I can't help you. You have to do it yourself. SOLDIER: Warning! Warning 49! He was massaging his foot now. Garraty had turned around and was walking backwards to watch him. Two small boys in Little League shirts with their baseball gloves hung from their bicycle handlebars were also watching him from the side of the road, their mouths hung open. SOLDIER: Warning! Second warning, 49! Harkness got up and began to limp onward in his stocking foot, his good leg already trying to buckle with the extra weight it was bearing. He dropped his shoe, grabbed for it, got two fingers on it, juggled it, and lost it. He stopped to pick it up and got his third warning. Harkness limped faster. The Little League boys began to pedal along, watching him. A Shell station came slowly up on the right. There was a dusty, fender-dented pickup parked on the tarmac, and two men in red-and-black-checked hunting shirts sitting on the tailgate, drinking beer. There was a mailbox at the end of a rutted dirt driveway, its lid hanging open like a mouth. A dog was barking hoarsely and endlessly somewhere just out of sight. The carbines came slowly down from high port and found Harkness. There was a long, terrible moment of silence, and then they went back up again to high port, all according to the rules, according to the book. Then they came down again. Garraty could hear Harkness's hurried, wet breathing. The guns went back up, then down, then slowly back up to high port. The two Little Leaguers were still keeping pace. BAKER: Get outta here! You don't want to see this. Scat! The Little Leaguers biked along with them for another two miles before losing interest and turning back. Up ahead, Harkness had formed a new one-man vanguard, walking very rapidly, almost running. He looked neither right nor left. Garraty wondered what he was thinking. Garraty opened his mouth to reply when a hollow, poom-poom sound echoed back from far ahead. It was rifle fire. The word came back. Harkness had burnt out.
Why don't you write Harkness a poem?
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: Harkness, man. Poor ol' Harkness. BARKOVITCH: Why don't you write him a fucking poem, then? Actually, you know what? You should write him a song, songwriter. McVRIES: Why don't you kiss my ass, killer? BARKOVITCH: Hey, don't fucking say that shit, man. You're fucking wrong to say that, man. I'm not fucking wrong. You're fucking wrong, man.	McVRIES: Harkness, Ol' Harkness bought a ticket to see the farm. BARKOVITCH: Why don't you write him a poime? McVRIES: Shut up, killer, Ol' Harkness, sonofabitch. BARKOVITCH: I ain't no killer! I'll dance on your grave, scarface! I'll—
you goddam bag
MOVIE	NOVEL
PARKER: How are ya, fucking fuckhead? You goddamn bag.	Collie Parker was waving and smiling, and it was not until Garraty closed up with him a little that he could hear him calling in his flat Midwestern accent. PARKER: Glad to seeya, ya goddam bunch of fools! A grin and a wave. PARKER: Howaya, Mother McCree, you goddam bag. Your face and my ass, what a match. Howaya, howaya?
Just allergies. I get them every spring.
MOVIE	NOVEL
(STEBBINS SNEEZES, GRUNTS, COUGHS) GARRATY: You gettin' sick, Stebbins? STEBBINS: Oh, wouldn't you like that, Garraty? Just allergies. I get 'em every spring.	GARRATY to SCRAMM: You sound like you're getting a cold. SCRAMM: Naw, it's the pollen. Happens every spring. Hay fever. I even get it in Arizona. But I never catch colds.
Percy's ticket
MOVIE	NOVEL
BARKOVITCH: Oh, shit! He's running for it! SOLDIER: Warning, 31. BARKOVITCH: Oh, boy! Come on, now! (GUNSHOTS, PERCY GETS HIS TICKET)	GARRATY: Look. I think he's going to break for it. BAKER: They'll shoot him sure as hell. PEARSON: Doesn't look like anyone's watching him. McVRIES: Then for God's sake, don't tip them! You bunch of dummies! Christ! PEARSON: He hasn't got the guts. There were no warnings. Percy had forfeited his right to them when his right foot passed over the verge of the shoulder. Percy had left the road, and the soldiers had known all along. He pitched forward, struck a small, crooked sapling, rolled through a half-turn, and landed face-up to the sky. The grace, the frozen symmetry, they were gone now. Percy was just dead.
I'm feeling pretty good today
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: Chances are getting better and better. And, you know, I'm feeling pretty good today, so... (GARRATY SKIPS) McVRIES: Ooh! (GARRATY CHUCKLES) McVRIES: Look at you. GARRATY: There you go.	Garraty flapped his thin arms with mock grandeur. GARRATY: I'm coasting, couldn't you tell?
Shut the fuck up, killer
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: Why don't you kiss my ass, killer? BARKOVITCH: Hey, don't fucking say that shit, man. You're fucking wrong to say that, man. I'm not fucking wrong. You're fucking wrong, man. McVRIES: Oh, yeah? What you gonna do? BARKOVITCH: I got plans for you, motherfucker. Okay?	McVRIES: Shut up, killer. Ol' Harkness, sonofabitch. BARKOVITCH: I ain't no killer! I'll dance on your grave, scarface! I'll–
Baker poops
MOVIE	NOVEL
SOLDIER: Warning, number six. McVRIES: Whoa. Whoa, Art. Whoa! McVRIES: Easy, Art. Damn. GARRATY: Jesus. McVRIES: Don't take long now. GARRATY: Come on. McVRIES: You gotta go. Is he good? SOLDIER: Second warning, number six. GARRATY: No, he's not up yet. GARRATY: Get up, Art. McVRIES: Fucking nasty. GARRATY: Pinch it off, my man. BAKER: Ain't so easy with a... gun on my... GARRATY: What, you need a gun to your head to get up from a shit? Jesus. McVRIES: Goddamn! BAKER: Fastest crap I ever took. McVRIES: You should have brought an issue of The New Yorker with you. BAKER: Never could go long without a crap. See, most guys, they, they ... they crap once a week. Me? I'm a once-a-day type of guy, you know? If I don't crap once a day, I... I take a laxative.	Baker cut past him suddenly, looked around for spectators, saw none, dropped his britches and squatted. He was warned. Garraty passed him, but heard the soldier warn him again. About twenty seconds after that he caught up with Garraty and McVries again, badly out of breath. He was cinching his pants. BAKER: Fastest crap I evah took! McVRIES: You should have brought a catalogue along. BAKER: I never could go very long without a crap. Some guys, hell, they crap once a week. I'm a once-a-day man. If I don't crap once a day, I take a laxative.
Three great truths in the world
MOVIE	NOVEL
OLSON: There are three great truths in the world. A good meal, a good screw, and a good shit. And that's all.	OLSON: Love is a fake! There are three great truths in the world and they are a good meal, a good screw, and a good shit, and that's all!
The military comes for Garraty's father
MOVIE	NOVEL
(DOOR SLAMS OPEN) GARRATY: Dad? Dad? GINNIE: William, what did you do? What did you do? GARRATY: Dad? GINNIE: What's happening? William? (YELLS) William, what's happening? He says things he doesn't mean! He says things he doesn't mean! MAJOR: Mr. William Garraty, you've been accused and convicted, for high crimes of possession and teaching, of banned materials and ideas. Do you pledge allegiance to the state, the system, and the squads... GINNIE: Please. MAJOR: ...here and now on the street before your family, or immediate deactivation? There's still time to be an example for your son. Still time for you to make the honorable choice. It's your decision. WILLIAM: No, sir. GINNIE: Oh, my God. WILLIAM: I will pledge no such allegiance. GINNIE: Oh, my God. Oh, my God! MAJOR: Luck to you, Mr. Garraty. GINNIE: No! MAJOR: May God show mercy. GINNIE: No! WILLIAM: Never forget who you are, Ray. (WILLIAM IS SHOT)	(These 4 sentences were pulled together from different parts on the novel. His mother sung an Irish lullaby Molly Malone to him, which is what Garraty's mom is singing in the movie. Garraty was exposed to banned media by his father, and how his father wasn't careful in the things he said.) He remembered his mother singing him an Irish lullaby when he was very small ... something about cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o. Garraty's head seemed to be playing jazz. Dave Brubeck, Thelonious Monk, Cannonball Adderly—the Banned Noisemakers that everybody kept under the table and played when the party got noisy and drunk. Later that night Garraty had heard his father shouting thickly at someone into the telephone, the way he did when he was being drunk or political, and his mother in the background, her conspiratorial whisper, begging him to stop, please stop, before someone picked up the party line. After he lost his own rig, he made a living driving Government trucks out of Brunswick. It would have been a good living if Jim Garraty could have kept his politics to himself. But when you work for the Government, the Government is twice as aware that you're alive, twice as ready to call in a Squad if things seem a little dicky around the edges. And Jim Garraty had not been much of a Long Walk booster. So one day he got a telegram and the next day two soldiers turned up on the doorstep and Jim Garraty had gone with them, blustering, and his wife had closed the door and her cheeks had been pale as milk and when Garraty asked his mother where Daddy was going with the soldier mens, she had slapped him hard enough to make his mouth bleed and told him to shut up, shut up. Garraty had never seen his father since. It had been eleven years. It had been a neat removal. Odorless, sanitized, pasteurized, sanforized, and dandruff-free.
They want to see our brains on the concrete
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: Pete, look at that bunch of fucking pigs. They wanna see our fucking brains on the concrete, man. They'd just as soon see yours. McVRIES: All how you fucking see it. Look harder. You see that? That's a family, and they love each other. We can't get mad at them for being conditioned to think that this is okay when... when we're the fuckin' same. You know what, Ray? Your wish means nothing if you don't believe in that family over there. If you don't believe they're worth being saved, you may as well sit down right now, and let them riddle you with bullets, because... vengeance, Ray... vengeance is not enough. See that? (McVRIES GESTURES TO RAINBOW) That's something to be grateful for.	GARRATY: Those people, they're animals. They want to see someone's brains on the road, that's why they turn out. They'd just as soon see yours. McVRIES: Sure they're animals. You think you just found out a new principle? Sometimes I wonder just how naive you really are. The French lords and ladies used to screw after the guillotinings. The old Romans used to stuff each other during the gladiatorial matches. That's entertainment, Garraty. It's nothing new." He laughed again. Garraty stared at him, fascinated. They're animals, all right. But why are you so goddam sure that makes us human beings?
Walker gets legs run over (name is Patrick Smith in movie)
MOVIE	NOVEL
SMITH: Help me. Please, my feet. Help me. My feet. Please, help. Please. SOLDIER: Warning, four. Smith attempts to climb on tank SOLDIER: Hey! (soldier its Smith in the face with butt of rifle) Smith falls and legs are run over by tank SOLDIER: Second warning. (SMITH SCREAMS) SOLDIER: Warning, four. Third and final warning. (McVRIES GRUNTING) (SMITH SCREAMING) (GUNSHOT, SMITH GETS HIS TICKET)	WALKER #38: Don't hurt me! Please don't hurt me! It was a redhead with a plaid shirt tied around his waist. He had stopped in the middle of the road and he was weeping. He was given first warning. And then he raced toward the halftrack, his tears cutting runnels through the sweaty dirt on his face, red hair glinting like a fire in the sun. "Don't ... I can't ... please ... my mother ... I can't ... don't ... no more ... my feet ..." He was trying to scale the side, and one of the soldiers brought the butt of his carbine down on his hands. The boy cried out and fell in a heap. He screamed again, a high, incredibly thin note that seemed sharp enough to shatter glass and what he was screaming was: "My feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee—" GARRATY: Jesus, Why doesn't he stop that? McVRIES: I doubt if he can. The back treads of the halftrack ran over his legs. Garraty looked and felt his stomach lurch into his throat. It was true. No wonder the redheaded kid was screaming about his feet. They had been obliterated. SOLDIER: Warning! Warning 38! WALKER #38: —eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee— WALKER BEHIND GARRATY: I want to go home, Oh Christ, do I ever want to go home. A moment later the redheaded boy's face was blown away.
Olson loses the taste for the carrot
MOVIE	NOVEL
STEBBINS: (WHISPERS) Garraty. (NORMAL VOICE) You tired, Garraty? GARRATY: Am I tired? (CHUCKLES) Ye... Yeah, I'm a little tired. STEBBINS: Exhausted? GARRATY: I'm getting there. STEBBINS: No. You're not exhausted. Not yet. (COUGHS) GARRATY: I don't know why I bother talkin' to you, man. It's like talking to fucking smoke. STEBBINS: Olson's exhausted. He's almost through now. McVRIES: You got balls talkin' about Olson, looking the way you look. STEBBINS: He shit himself. You smell that? Even I can. GARRATY: The fuck are you driving at, man? STEBBINS: Why don't you ask your hick friend, Art Baker? The mule doesn't like to plow, but it sure does like the tasty carrots. STEBBINS: Watch Olson. He doesn't quite know it yet, but he's lost his appetite for the carrot.	STEBBINS: Are you tired, Garraty? GARRATY: Yeah, I'm tired. STEBBINS: Exhausted? GARRATY: Well, I'm getting there. STEBBINS: No, you're not getting exhausted yet, Garraty. GARRATY: I don't even know why I bother talking to you. It's like talking to smoke. (taken from a different scene in the novel) He (Stebbins) jerked a thumb at Olson's silhouette. STEBBINS: That's exhausted. He's almost through now. GARRATY: What are you driving at? STEBBINS: Ask your cracker friend, Art Baker. A mule doesn't like to plow. But he likes carrots. So you hang a carrot in front of his eyes. A mule without a carrot gets exhausted. A mule with a carrot spends a long time being tired. You get it? GARRATY: No. STEBBINS: You will. Watch Olson. He's lost his appetite for the carrot. He doesn't quite know it yet, but he has.
God's Garden is full of weeds
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: Olson? Hank? Olson? Olson, talk to me, man. What's goin' on? Hey, hey. Talk to me, Hank. Stebbins is talking about carrots and donkeys. (CHUCKLES) I don't know what's happening, but... You okay? You all right? Talk to me. OLSON: (VOICE BREAKS) God's garden. (PANTING) It's full of weeds.	Nervously, Garraty walked away from him, and toward Olson. GARRATY: Olson? Olson walked on. He was a shambling haunted house on legs. Olson had fouled himself. Olson smelled bad. OLSON: Ga. Go. God. God's garden— God's garden. GARRATY: What about God's garden, Olson? OLSON: It's full. Of. Weeds.
Olson's ticket (Movie: Baker runs to Olson, Novel: Garraty runs to Olson)
MOVIE	NOVEL
(OLSON WALKS BACK TO MILITARY VEHICLE) GARRATY: Hank. Hank! SOLDIER: Warning, 46. McVRIES: Hey. GARRATY: Hey, keep walking, Hank! BAKER: Hey, Hank! GARRATY: Olson, come on. Just keep walking. BAKER: Keep walking, man, come on! PARKER: Olson, get that fucker! BAKER: Please! (OLSON TOUCHES SOLDIER CARBINE AND IS GUT SHOT) (HANK YELLS) GARRATY: Come on. No! BAKER: No, no, no, no, no! SOLDIER: Second warning, 46. OLSON: Art! (OLSON GUT SHOT AGAIN) BAKER: Hank! Hank! SOLDIER: Warning, number six. McVRIES: Motherfuckers! GARRATY: Art! Get back here, Art! McVRIES: Art, get fucking back here now! GARRATY: Art, he's dead! BAKER: Hank. Hank. Hank, buddy. Buddy, buddy. No, no, no, no, no. SOLDIER: Second warning, six. BAKER: Why... Hey, come on. Why'd you do this? (GARRATY RUNS BACK TO SAVE BAKER) SOLDIER: Warning, 47. McVRIES: Ray! Ray!	He was walking at the halftrack. SOLDIER: Warning. Warning 70! He put his hands over the side of the halftrack. He began to clamber painfully up the side. The soldiers brought their guns around in perfect four-part harmony. Olson grabbed the barrel of the closest and yanked it out of the hands that held it as if it had been an ice-cream stick. It clattered off into the crowd. Then one of the other three guns went off. Garraty saw the flash at the end of the barrel quite clearly. He saw the jerky ripple of Olson's shirt as the bullet entered his belly and then punched out the back. Olson did not stop. He gained the top of the halftrack and grabbed the barrel of the gun that had just shot him. He levered it up into the air as it went off again. McVRIES: Get 'em! Get 'em, Olson! Kill 'em! Kill 'em! The other two guns roared in unison and the impact of the heavy-caliber slugs sent Olson flying off the halftrack. Olson began to get up. Another volley of bullets drove him flat again. Olson gained his feet, hands crossed on his belly. He seemed to sniff the air for direction, turned slowly in the direction of the Walk, and began to stagger along.
They gut shot him
MOVIE	NOVEL
PARKER: Why the hell don't they just finish him? STEBBINS: They gut-shot him. STEBBINS: They're gonna let him bleed out. It's deliberate, to discourage any of us from doing the old Charge-of-the-Light-Brigade number.	STEBBINS: They gut-shot him. They'll do that. It's deliberate. To discourage anybody else from trying the old Charge of the Light Brigade number.
I did it wrong! (Movie: Baker runs to Olson, Novel: Garraty runs to Olson)
MOVIE	NOVEL
OLSON: Art... BAKER: Why'd you do this? OLSON: I did it wrong. GARRATY: Art, get the fuck up! OLSON: I did it all wrong. BAKER: Why? OLSON: I did it all wrong. BAKER: No, I'm here. I'm here, buddy. GARRATY: He's dead. GARRATY: Art, I need you... I need you to get the fuck up right now! BAKER: Shoot me! Hank, no, you can't! GARRATY: Come on. He's dead. He's dead! BAKER: No, no! GARRATY: I'm sorry, Olson. OLSON: I did it wrong!! GARRATY: What? BAKER: I'm sorry! GARRATY: He was dead! He's dead! OLSON: I did it wrong! GARRATY: What? I'm gonna lose you too? OLSON: I did it all wrong! BAKER: Garraty, I couldn't save him, man. GARRATY: I know, I know, I know. BAKER:I couldn't save him, Garraty! GARRATY: I know. OLSON: Art! I did it wrong! GARRATY: I know, I know. BAKER: I’m sorry. Couldn't save... GARRATY: I know. BAKER: Couldn't save him!	Garraty began to cry. He ran over to Olson and fell on his knees beside him and held the tired, hectically hot face against his chest. He sobbed into the dry, bad-smelling hair. SOLDIER: Warning! Warning 47! Warning! Warning 61! (McVries number in the novel) McVries was pulling at him. It was McVries again. McVRIES: Get up, Ray, get up, you can't help him, for God's sake get up! GARRATY: It's not fair!" Garraty wept. GARRATY: It's just not fair! McVRIES: I know. Come on. Come on. OLSON: I DID IT WRONG! GARRATY: He talked to me, Pete. He was alive. Alive.
Helping Olson's wife (in the novel it's Scramm's wife. Scramm is not in the movie)
MOVIE	NOVEL
PARKER: He was married. GARRATY: Oh, that's...that's a load of bullshit. PARKER: It's the truth. Told a few of us at the drop off. Got a lot of ball-busting for it. He's the only one. The only one with a fucking wife. Get this. Her name's Clementine. Like the song. McVRIES: Okay, fellas, let's make a promise right now, whoever wins has to do something for his wife. How about that? GARRATY: That's exactly fucking right, Pete. PARKER: Do what? I'm not the fuckwad who decided to widow a, you know... GARRATY: Listen, just money or something, just to make sure she's okay, all right? PARKER: Sounds like some bleeding-heart bullshit to me. McVRIES:Fucking, come on, Parker. Come on. I know you got a heart in there somewhere. PARKER: Fucking say I never did anything for you, McVries. McVRIES: My man. And what about you, Baker? SOLDIER: Warning, number 23. McVRIES: Yeah? BAKER: Yeah. McVRIES: Come on. Yeah. What about you, Stebbins? STEBBINS: Why not? Go team. BARKOVITCH: Fuck! Mmm. (BREATHING HEAVILY) Hey, um. Why didn't your buddy ask me if I wanted to help Hank's girl out, you know? I mean, um, you know, I wanted to be asked. You didn't hear me say I didn't wanna be asked, did you? GARRATY: No, I... I didn't hear you say that. No. BARKOVITCH: Shit, man. I think I just got off on the wrong foot with you boys, you know? Like, I'm a good enough guy if you get to know me. I just... I don't really have a crowd, you know? I never had a crowd in school, I guess, is what I'm trying to say. You know, I was always getting off on the wrong foot, but, um... GARRATY: Okay. BARKOVITCH: Fuck, man. I mean...a guy's gotta have a couple buddies on... on a fucked-up thing like this. GARRATY: Mm-hmm BARKOVITCH: right? GARRATY: Mm-hmm. (SNIFFLES) Yeah. BARKOVITCH: Listen, man, um... that Rank kid. GARRATY: Yeah. BARKOVITCH: Man. I... I didn't wanna see him go, you know? I... I... I would never, you know... Fuck, man, I just... I can't stop fucking hearing it and seeing it in my mind over and over again, man. I can't fucking do it anymore, man. I just gotta... I'm just...I'm fucking sorry, man, and I... GARRATY: Yeah. BARKOVITCH: I can't think it's my fucking fault, right? GARRATY: Yeah. BARKOVITCH: It's not my fault, right? GARRATY: It's not. It's not. BARKOVITCH: Okay. GARRATY: It's not. Okay? So... so what...what do you want, Gary? You wanna be a... you wanna be a part of the deal? BARKOVITCH: Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's what I was saying. GARRATY: Okay. Okay. BARKOVITCH: Yeah. (CHUCKLES) Okay. Yeah. I'll tell that, I'll tell that bitch, she can have enough bread to stay on Fifth Avenue the rest of her fucking life.	McVRIES: I've been talking to everybody. Well, just about everybody. I think the winner should do something for her. GARRATY: Like what? McVRIES: That'll have to be between the winner and Scramm's wife. And if the bastard welshes, we can all come back and haunt him. PEARSON: Okay. What's to lose? McVRIES: Ray? GARRATY: All right. Sure. Have you talked to Gary Barkovitch? McVRIES: That prick? He wouldn't give his mother artificial respiration if she was drowning. GARRATY: I'll talk to him. McVRIES: You won't get anywhere. GARRATY: Just the same. I'll do it now. McVRIES: Ray, why don't you talk to Stebbins, too? You seem to be the only one he talks to. GARRATY: I can tell you what he'll say in advance. McVRIES: No? GARRATY: He'll say why. And by the time he gets done, I won't have any idea. McVRIES: Skip him then. GARRATY: Can't. Garraty began angling toward the small, slumped figure of Barkovitch. GARRATY: Barkovitch. Barkovitch snapped awake. BARKOVITCH: Wassamatter? Whozat? Garraty? GARRATY: Yes. Listen, Scramm's dying. BARKOVITCH: Who? Oh, right. Beaver-brains over there. Good for him. GARRATY: He's got pneumonia. He probably won't last until noon. BARKOVITCH: Look at you there with your big earnest face hanging out, Garraty. What's your pitch? GARRATY: Well, if you didn't know, he's married, and— BARKOVITCH: Married! MARRIED? ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT NUMBSKULL IS— GARRATY: Shut up, you asshole! He'll hear you! BARKOVITCH: I don't give a sweet fuck! He's crazy! WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING, NUMBNUTS, PLAYING GIN RUMMY? Aw, goodness. It shines from your dumb hick face, Garraty. Passing the hat for the dying guy's wifey, right? Ain't that cute. GARRATY: Count you out, huh? Okay. BARKOVITCH: Hold on, hold on. I didn't say no, did I? Did you hear me say no? GARRATY: No— BARKOVITCH: No, course I didn't. Listen, I got off on the wrong foot with you guys. I didn't mean to. Shit, I'm a good enough guy when you get to know me, I'm always gettin' off on the wrong foot, I never had much of a crowd back home. In my school, I mean. Christ, I don't know why. I'm a good enough guy when you get to know me, as good as anyone else, but I always just, you know, seem to get off on the wrong foot. I mean a guy's got to have a couple of friends on a thing like this. It's no good to be alone, right? Jesus Christ, Garraty, you know that. That Rank. He started it, Garraty. He wanted to tear my ass. Guys, they always want to tear my ass. I used to carry a switchblade back at my high school on account of guys wanting to tear my ass. That Rank. I didn't mean for him to croak, that wasn't the idea at all. I mean, it wasn't my fault. You guys just saw the end of it, not the way he was ... ripping my ass, you know ... GARRATY: Yeah, I guess so. Well, what do you want to do, anyway? You want to go along with the deal? BARKOVITCH: Sure, sure. I'll send her enough bread to keep her in clover the rest of her life. I just wanted to tell you ... make you see ... a guy's got to have some friends ... a guy's got to have a crowd, you know? Who wants to die hated, if you got to die, that's the way I look at it. I ... I ... GARRATY: Sure, right. Thanks a lot. He dropped back too fast, got a warning, and spent the next ten minutes working back to where Stebbins was ambling along. STEBBINS: Ray Garraty. Happy May 3rd, Garraty. GARRATY: Same goes both ways. STEBBINS: I was counting my toes. They are fabulously good company because they always add up the same way. What's on your mind? So Garraty went through the business about Scramm and Scramm's wife for the second time Finished, he waited tensely for Stebbins to start anatomizing the idea. STEBBINS: Why not?
Stebbins says he's suffering from allergies then admits to getting sick. (in the novel, it's Scramm. Just like Stebbins, Scramm decides to give up)
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: You feeling okay? (STEBBINS COUGHS) STEBBINS: No, I'm not feeling okay. It's a hell of a thing. I haven't been sick in 10 years, and my body decides to do it during this exact stretch of days. Like some cruel fucking joke. McVRIES: It's called irony. STEBBINS: (COUGHS) Yeah, I know what irony is. Won't stop me, though. Still fucking winning this shit.	SCRAMM: I am getting a cold. PEARSON: That'll take the starch right out of you. That's a bitch. SCRAMM: I'll just have to work harder.
Barkovitch's ticket
MOVIE	NOVEL
SOLDIER: Warning. Warning, number five. GARRATY: Please, keep walking. McVRIES: Don't stop. Come on. BARKOVITCH: Gonna be with you whores forever now, okay? McVRIES: It's not what you... (BARKOVITCH STABS HIMSELF IN THE NECK WITH HIS SPOON) McVRIES: What the fuck? GARRATY: Fuck! No! BAKER: Oh, God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. McVRIES: Why'd he do that? Why the fuck did he do that? Fuck! How the fuck did he do that? SOLDIER: Warning. Second warning, five. McVRIES: Everyone keep walking. SOLDIER: Third warning, five. Final warning. (BARKOVITCH GETS HIS TICKET) GARRATY: No.	The guns blasted and they all jumped. PEARSON: It was Barkovitch or Quince. I can't tell ... one of them's still walking ... it's— Barkovitch laughed out of the darkness, a high, gobbling sound, thin and terrifying. BARKOVITCH: Not yet, you whores! I ain't gone yet! Not yeeeeeetttttt ... His voice kept climbing and climbing. It was like a fire whistle gone insane. And Barkovitch's hands suddenly went up like startled doves taking flight and Barkovitch ripped out his own throat. PEARSON: My Jesus! (and threw up over himself) He fell down and they shot him, dead or alive. PEARSON: I don't feel good. Oh. Not so good. Oh God. I don't. Feel. So good. Oh.
Parker tells Garraty he's lucky he'll be seeing family in Freeport but McVries says it might make it worse
MOVIE	NOVEL
PARKER: You're one lucky son of a bitch, Garraty. Get to see your mom. Who the hell am I gonna see between now and the end, huh? No one but the fucking pigs who come and stare. I'm homesick, and I'm fucking scared. GARRATY: Hey, I'm scared, too, Collie. If it makes you feel any better I think we're all homesick. You know? PARKER: Fucking easy for you to talk. This is your home state. You're the only one who gets to see family. McVRIES: I don't know. I think maybe it might make it worse. PARKER: The fuck are you butting in for? McVRIES: I think he's got it harder than either of us. I think it might throw him off. PARKER: Oh, fuck off. You're both crazy.	PARKER: You're one lucky sonofabitch, Garraty. GARRATY: I am? PARKER: You're gonna see your girl and your mother. Who the hell am I going to see between now and the end? No one but these pigs. I'm homesick, and scared. Pigs! You pigs! GARRATY: I'm scared, too. And homesick. I ... I mean we ... We're all too far away from home. The road keeps us away. I may see them, but I won't be able to touch them. PARKER: The rules say— GARRATY: I know what the rules say. Bodily contact with anyone I wish, as long as I don't leave the road. But it's not the same. There's a wall. PARKER: Fuckin' easy for you to talk. You're going to see them, just the same. McVRIES: Maybe that'll only make it worse. PARKER: You're all crazy. I'm getting out of here.
Garraty's shoe heel falls off
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: Fuck! Damn bottom of my shoe fell off. BAKER: Gotta get rid of them both, Garraty. Or else some nails will start poking through. Plus, you work harder when you're off balance. SOLDIER: Warning, number 47. McVRIES: Fuck me.	GARRATY: I ... uh! My damn shoeheel came off. BAKER: Get rid of 'em both. The nails will get to pokin' through. And you have to work harder when you're off balance. Garraty kicked off one shoe and it went end over end almost to the edge of the crowd, where it lay like a small crippled puppy. The hands of Crowd groped for it eagerly. One snared it, another took it away, and there was a violent, knotted struggle over it. His other shoe would not kick off; his foot had swelled tight inside it. He knelt, took his warning, untied it, and took it off. He considered throwing it to the crowd and then left it lying on the road instead. A great and irrational wave of despair suddenly washed over him and he thought: I have lost my shoes. I have lost my shoes. The pavement was cold against his feet. The ripped remains of his stockings were soon soaked. Both feet looked strange, oddly lumpish. Garraty felt despair turn to pity for his feet. He caught up quickly with Baker, who was also walking shoeless.
Garraty sees his mom in Freeport (in the novel, he sees his mom and his girlfriend Jan)
MOVIE	NOVEL
GINNIE: Your... GARRATY: Hi, Mom. GINNIE: Your feet. Your... Baby, your... McVRIES: Don't slow down, Ray. Can't stop. Ray, Ray. Ray! SOLDIER: Warning, 47. GARRATY: Mom, I'm so sorry. SOLDIER: Second warning. GARRATY: I'm so sorry. You... SOLDIER: Warning, number 23. GINNIE: No, no, no, no, no, no! GARRATY: You don't know how sorry I am. GINNIE: It's okay. GARRATY: Mom, please... I just wanna hug. Please. McVRIES: You're going to get yourself killed. Ray, come on! GARRATY: Mom, please. Just a hug. I know I fucked up. GINNIE: No! No, go! SOLDIER: Warning... McVRIES: Don't you fucking die! SOLDIER: ...47. McVRIES: Ray! Move! SOLDIER: Third warning. GINNIE: Go! SOLDIER: Warning, number 23. GINNIE: Keep walking! GARRATY: I'm so sorry, Mom. GINNIE: Keep walking! It's okay! It's okay! McVRIES: Think about your father. GARRATY: I don't wanna think about it. I'm so sorry, Mom! McVRIES: Just don't do this in front of her. Don't do this in front of her!	GARRATY: I can't go on. Can't, can't, can't. But his feet stumbled on. Where am I? Jan? Jan? ... JAN! He saw her. She was waving the blue silk scarf he had gotten her for her birthday, and the rain shimmered in her hair like gems. His mother was beside her, wearing her plain black coat. They had been jammed together by the mob and were being swayed helplessly back and forth. Over Jan's shoulder a TV camera poked its idiot snout. A great sore somewhere in his body seemed to burst. The infection ran out of him in a green flood. He burst into a shambling, pigeon-toed run. His ripped socks flapped and slapped his swollen feet. GARRATY: Jan! Jan! He could hear the thought but not the words in his mouth. The TV camera tracked him enthusiastically. The din was tremendous. He could see her lips form his name, and he had to reach her, had to— An arm brought him up short. It was McVries. A soldier speaking through a sexless bullhorn was giving them both first warning. McVRIES: Not into the crowd! GARRATY: Let me go! McVRIES: I won't let you kill yourself, Ray! GARRATY: Let me go goddammit! McVRIES: Do you want to die in her arms? Is that it? JAN: Ray, I love you. SOLDIER: Second warning. GARRATY: Jan— He grasped them. In one hand he held Jan's hand, in the other his mother's hand. He touched them. It was done. It was done until McVries's arm came down around his shoulder again, cruel McVries. GARRATY: Let me go! Let me go!" McVRIES: Man, you must really hate her! What do you want? To die knowing they're both stinking with your blood? Is that what you want? For Christ's sake, come on! JAN: Go on! Go on! SOLDIER: Third warning McVRIES: If you've got to do it, do it around the next corner, you cheap shit! GARRATY: All right. All right, all right, let me loose before you break my collarbone. He turned around and faced forward again, not looking at McVries, and his stumbling, traitorous feet carried him on and they walked out of town.
McVries explains how he got his scar
MOVIE	NOVEL
McVRIES: Ray. Ray, you still wanna know how I got this fucking scar, huh? GARRATY: She's still there, Pete. McVRIES: Ray? GARRATY: Please. McVRIES: Yeah. Ray, you've been walking for five days. I've been walking my whole fucking life. (SNIFFLES) You know, my parents both died, in the big war when I was... when I was little. And, you know, the damnedest thing... I don't remember a single thing about 'em. A drunk uncle took me in. He beat the shit outta me, and died in a pool of his own puke when I was 10. After that...I met kids sorta like me. GARRATY: Uh-huh. McVRIES: No parents. Or parents who didn't give a fuck. GARRATY: Yeah? McVRIES: I lived on... couches and in basements. I slept in fields and ditches. It took years before I was finally caught by the state. But nothing was as bad as how I was living. Picking fights, stealing shit. Picking more fights. Until, one day, I picked a fight with the wrong guy. Yeah. A guy who knew his way around a hunting knife. (SNIFFLES) He cut me. He cut me fucking good. You see this, Ray? Have a look at that. You see that? GARRATY: Jesus, Pete. McVRIES: You see it, yeah? GARRATY: Yeah, I do. McVRIES: Yeah. He left me for dead. I woke up in the hospital, and you know what? You know what, Ray? I wasn't even upset, because it wasn't his fault. It was mine. You know, so at that moment, I said I'll always choose to find sunlight in all this fucking darkness. 'Cause what's the point of a second chance if not?	(McVries tells a long story about rising tensions with his girlfriend and coworkers. I've only included the part where he gets cut) GARRATY: The scar. McVRIES: I got into a fight. With Ralph, the guy on the picker. He blacked both my eyes and told me I better take off or he'd break my arms as well. I turned in my time and told Pris that night that I'd quit. She could see what I looked like for herself. She understood. She said that was probably best. I told her I was going home and I asked her to come. She said she couldn't. I said she was nothing but a slave to her fucking buttons and that I wished I'd never seen her. There was just so much poison inside me, Garraty. I told her she was a fool and an unfeeling bitch that couldn't see any further than the goddam bank book she carried around in her purse. Nothing I said was fair, but ... there was some truth in all of it, I guess. Enough. We were at her apartment. That was the first time I'd ever been there when all her roommates were out. They were at the movies. I tried to take her to bed and she cut my face open with a letter-opener. It was a gag letter-opener, some friend of hers sent it to her from England. It had Paddington Bear on it. She cut me like I was trying to rape her. Like I was germs and I'd infect her. Am I giving you the drift, Ray? GARRATY: Yes, I'm getting it. McVRIES: I cried. I cried like a baby. I got down on my knees and held her skirt and begged her to forgive me, and all the blood was getting on the floor, it was a basically disgusting scene, Garraty. She gagged and ran off into the bathroom. She threw up. I could hear her throwing up. When she came out, she had a towel for my face. She said she never wanted to see me again. She was crying. She asked me why I'd done that to her, hurt her like that. She said I had no right. There I was, Ray, with my face cut wide open and she's asking me why I hurt her. GARRATY: Yeah. McVRIES: I left with the towel still on my face. I had twelve stitches and that's the story of the fabulous scar and aren't you happy?
No help for anyone. Do it on your own, or you don't do it.
MOVIE	NOVEL
(STEBBINS COUGHING) STEBBINS: Hey, listen. I've been thinking... We all got to get together on something. McVRIES: What? STEBBINS: We all gotta make an agreement that from here on out no help for anyone. You either do it on your own, or you don't do it. McVRIES: The fuck's that supposed to mean, Stebbins, huh? What the fuck's that supposed to fucking mean, huh? GARRATY: No, Pete, I think he might be right. You can't keep saving me. BAKER: But what about the Musketeers? STEBBINS: Fuck your Musketeers. It's better for all of us, and you know it. (COUGHS)	ABRAHAM: Garraty ... this is a bitch to say ... GARRATY: What's that? ABRAHAM: It's a bitch. I just don't know how to say it. GARRATY: I guess you just say it. ABRAHAM: Well, look. We're getting together on something. All of us that are left. GARRATY: Scrabble, maybe? ABRAHAM: It's a kind of a ... a promise. GARRATY: Oh yeah? ABRAHAM: No help for anybody. Do it on your own or don't do it. GARRATY: That sounds pretty heartless. ABRAHAM: It's gotten to be a pretty heartless situation. GARRATY: Have you talked to all the others about this? ABRAHAM: Not yet. About a dozen. GARRATY: Yeah, it's a real bitch. I can see how hard it is for you to talk about. ABRAHAM: It seems to get harder rather than easier. GARRATY: What did they say? ABRAHAM: They're for it. What do you say? Yes or no? GARRATY: Maybe I owe McVries a couple ... all right, count me in. ABRAHAM: Cool.
Collie Parker's ticket
MOVIE	NOVEL
PARKER: Fuck it. Goddamn motherfucker! (PARKER GRABS THE SOLDIER'S CARBINE AND SHOOTS HIM) McVRIES: No! PARKER: McVries! Come on! Huh? GARRATY: Oh, my God. (OTHER SOLDIER GUT SHOTS PARKER) (GROANING) GARRATY: Fuck. Fuck. God. (PARKER CHANTING IN ALGONQUIN) (PARKER SHOOTS HIMSELF WITH CARBINE)	he was stunned to see Collie Parker standing on top of the halftrack with a rifle in his hands. One of the soldiers had fallen off and lay staring up at the sky with empty, expressionless eyes. There was a neat blue hole surrounded by a corona of powder burns in the center of his forehead. PARKER: Goddam bastards! The other soldiers had jumped from the halftrack. Parker looked out over the stunned Walkers. PARKER: Come on, you guys! Come on! We can— [Soldiers] shot Collie Parker in the back. McVRIES: Parker! Oh, no! Parker! guts all over his torn khaki shirt and blue jeans. PARKER: God. Damn. He fired the rifle he had wrenched away from the dead soldier twice into the road. The slugs snapped and whined, and Garraty felt one of them tug air in front of his face. Someone in the crowd screamed in pain. Then the gun slid from Parker's hands. His eyes blazed. He opened his mouth and struggled through blood for some coda. PARKER: You. Ba. Bas. Bast. Ba. GARRATY: What happened? What happened to him? McVRIES: He snuck up on 'em. That's what happened. He must have known he couldn't make it. He snuck right up behind 'em and caught 'em sleep at the switch. He wanted us all up there with him, Garraty. And I think we could have done it. GARRATY: What are you talking about? McVRIES: You don't know? You don't know? GARRATY: Up there with him? ... What? ... McVRIES: Forget it. Just forget it.
Arthur Baker's ticket
MOVIE	NOVEL
BAKER: Hey. Hey, my nose. My nose won't stop. My nose won't stop bleeding. It ain't that bad, though, is it? GARRATY: No. BAKER: Huh? GARRATY: No, no. It's not that bad. No. STEBBINS: It's an internal hemorrhage. Pretty common. GARRATY: Stebbins, please. Come on. BAKER: My grandma, she used to put ice on my nose... GARRATY: Uh-huh. BAKER: ...every time I have a nosebleed. I wish I had some ice to put on it. GARRATY: Yeah. Let's get you some ice. Just keep walking. BAKER: I'm gonna die now, boys. GARRATY: No. Just keep walking a little longer, okay? BAKER: No, no. I can't. I can't. GARRATY: Please. BAKER: I can't, buddy. I'm sorry. I'm going home. McVRIES: Don't apologize. BAKER: I'm going home. McVRIES: Don't apologize, Art. BAKER: I'm going home. McVRIES: Keep your head up, buddy. You gave this your all. BAKER: I did? McVRIES: Yeah. BAKER: I did. McVRIES: Like fuck, you did. BAKER: I did. McVRIES: Yeah. And you know what? (BAKER CHUCKLING) McVRIES: Even made some friends. GARRATY: That's goddamn right. GARRATY: Hey, Art, you've been a hell of a fucking friend. Truly. BAKER: Yeah. Thanks. Thanks, both of y'all. GARRATY: Of course. BAKER: Could y'all do something for me? GARRATY: Absolutely. McVRIES: Anything, compadre. BAKER: Could you give this to my grandma, if you make it? GARRATY: Of course. Of course. BAKER: Promise me one thing. GARRATY: Yeah. BAKER: Don't watch 'em do it. GARRATY: Okay. BAKER: Okay? Promise me. Promise me. GARRATY: I promise. BAKER: Promise me! McVRIES: I promise. I promise. BAKER: Thanks. I'm going home. GARRATY: Just a little longer. BAKER: I'm going home. GARRATY: Just a little longer. BAKER: I'm going home. McVRIES: I can't, man. SOLDIER: Warning. Second warning, six. McVRIES: I just... I fucking can't, man. Do you know what I want more than anything? GARRATY: What, Pete? SOLDIER: Third and final warning. McVRIES: An Orange Julius. (COUGHS) (GUNSHOT, BAKER GETS HIS TICKET)	BAKER: Garraty? GARRATY: What? BAKER: Are we in? GARRATY: Huh? BAKER: In, are we in? Garraty, please. GARRATY: Yeah. We're in. We're in, Art. BAKER: I'm going to die now, Garraty. GARRATY: All right. BAKER: If you win, will you do something for me? I'm scairt to ask anyone else. GARRATY: Anything. BAKER: Lead-lined. GARRATY: Walk a little bit longer. Walk a little longer, Art. BAKER: No—I can't. GARRATY: All right. BAKER: Maybe I'll see you, man. Garraty lowered his head and wept. BAKER: Don't watch 'em do it. Promise me that, too. Garraty nodded, beyond speech. BAKER: Thanks. You've been my friend, Garraty. Another time, another place. Garraty put his hands over his face and had to bend over to keep walking. The sobs ripped out of him and made him ache with a pain that was far beyond anything the Walk had been able to inflict. He hoped he wouldn't hear the shots. But he did.
Billy Stebbins gets his ticket (in the novel, Stebbins does not get his ticket but the scene is similar)
MOVIE	NOVEL
GARRATY: How the fuck do you know so much about the Long Walk, anyway? STEBBINS: It's all on record. You ever read a book? It ain't too hard. McVRIES: Come on. Come on. No, come on! Come on, man. It's almost over. Say something real. STEBBINS: I'm the rabbit. GARRATY: Huh? STEBBINS: I'm the fucking rabbit. You've seen them. Those little gray mechanical rabbits that the greyhounds chase at the dog races. 'Cause no matter how fast the dogs run, they never can quite catch up to the rabbit, because the rabbit isn't flesh and blood. Maybe you're right, Garraty. Maybe we should stop being rabbits and pigs, and goats and sheep and... just be people. Real people... who bleed. You wanna know how I know so much about the Long Walk? The Major's my father. I'm his bastard. I didn't think he knew I was his son. That's where I made my mistake. He's got dozens of us. For my wish, I was gonna ask to be taken into my father's home. To be invited for tea. But I guess this rabbit is flesh and blood. And this flesh and blood is failing me now. I can feel my liver going, my lungs filling with fluid. And I'd like to end this shit with my head held high, instead of crawling on my belly, like a reptile choking on my own mucus. Think it'll rain tonight, boys? GARRATY: I don't know, but it looks that way. STEBBINS: I always loved the rain. McVRIES: Hey. I'm sorry. (SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING) STEBBINS: There's gonna be crowds. They allow them when there's two. The real diehards. The ones who will walk with you. The ones that wanna see the Major do the final kill. Just keep walkin', okay? I'm glad it's you two. GARRATY: Nice walking with you, Stebbins. STEBBINS: An honor. Good luck. SOLDIER: Third warning, 38. Final warning. STEBBINS: Come on. Do me. GARRATY: 50% chance now, Pete. STEBBINS: Fucking do me! (GUNSHOT, STEBBINS GETS HIS TICKET)	GARRATY: How do you know so much about the Long Walk? STEBBINS: It's all on record. They don't have anything to be ashamed of. Now do they? McVRIES: What'll you do if you win, Stebbins? STEBBINS: What do you think? Get a big yella Cadillac with a purple top and a color TV with stereo speakers for every room of the house? McVRIES: I'd expect, that you'd donate two or three hundred grand to the Society for Intensifying Cruelty to Animals. GARRATY: Abraham looked like a sheep. Like a sheep caught on barbed wire. That's what I thought. STEBBINS: Garraty, why don't you go have sex with your mother? GARRATY: Sorry, you're not pushing the right button anymore. I figure I can walk another full day if I have to, and another two if I need to. Resign yourself to it, Stebbins. Give up the old psy-war. It doesn't work. Have some more crackers and peanut butter. Come on, Stebbins. Tell us why you're here. Seeing as how we won't be together much longer. Tell us. Just between the three of us, now that we know you're not Superman. GARRATY: Come on, Stebbins. You've thrown up. Now own up. Tell us. STEBBINS: Why am I here? You want to know? Why am I here or why do I walk? Which do you want to know? GARRATY: I want to know everything. STEBBINS: I'm the rabbit. I'm the rabbit. You've seen them, Garraty. The little gray mechanical rabbits that the greyhounds chase at the dog races. No matter how fast the dogs run, they can never quite catch the rabbit. Because the rabbit isn't flesh and blood and they are. The rabbit, he's just a cutout on a stick attached to a bunch of cogs and wheels. In the old days, in England, they used to use a real rabbit, but sometimes the dogs caught it. More reliable the new way. He fooled me. Maybe you could even say ... he conjured me. He changed me into a rabbit. Remember, the one in Alice in Wonderland? But maybe you're right, Garraty. Time to stop being rabbits and grunting pigs and sheep and to be people ... even if we can only rise to the level of whoremasters and the perverts in the balconies of the theaters on 42nd Street. How come I know so much about the Long Walk? I know all about the Long Walk! I ought to! The Major is my father, Garraty! He's my father! McVRIES: Oh my God. Is it true? STEBBINS: It's true. I'm his bastard. You see ... I didn't think he knew. I didn't think he knew I was his son. That was where I made my mistake. He's a randy old sonofabitch, is the Major. I understand he's got dozens of little bastards. What I wanted was to spring it on him—spring it on the world. Surprise, surprise. And when I won, the Prize I was going to ask for was to be taken into my father's house. McVRIES: But he knew everything? STEBBINS: He made me his rabbit. A little gray rabbit to make the rest of the dogs run faster ... and further. And I guess it worked. We're going to make it into Massachusetts. GARRATY: And now? STEBBINS: The rabbit turns out to be flesh and blood after all. I walk. I talk. And I suppose if all this doesn't end soon, I'll be crawling on my belly like a reptile. What time is it? McVRIES: It's twenty until ten. Happy day five to you, suckers. STEBBINS: Will it rain all day, Garraty? GARRATY: Yeah, I think so. It looks that way. STEBBINS: I think so, too. McVRIES: Well, come on in out of the rain. STEBBINS: All right. Thanks.