Owen: I hate the countryside. It’s dirty, it’s unhygienic. And what is that smell?
Gwen: That would be grass.
Owen: It’s disgusting.
Gwen: The Rift doesn’t spread out this far, does it?
Jack: We don’t know that much about it to be certain. And it’s increasing in activity all the time.
Jack: We’ll start with the most recent victim, Ellie Johnson. We last have record of her making a phone call. She dropped out of signal mid-call. The coverage map has her placed somewhere about here. Looks as good a place as any to set up camp.
Owen: Sorry. Did you say, “camp”?
Jack: No other race in the universe goes camping. Celebrate your own uniqueness.
Owen: Jack.
Jack: Are we including non-human life forms?
Gwen: God you haven’t!
Owen: You’re a sick man, Harkness. That’s disgusting.
Gwen: I never know when he’s joking.
Tosh: Call me suspicious but this has all the hallmarks of a trap.
Jack: Yeah. I was just thinking the same thing. Anyone fancy a walk?
Owen to the dead body: Whatever they were… I hope you put up a good fight.
Owen about to give Gwen a local anesthetic: Alright, do you want a quip about feeling a small prick?
Gwen: No, but thanks for offering.
Owen: Just lie back and think of Torchwood.
Ianto: You know, I never liked camping. Don’t bother. They took the guns.
Toshiko: Charming place they’ve got.
Ianto: Judging by the sound reverberations and the… air quality… pretty deep underground. Chances of rescue?
Toshiko: We won’t need rescuing. I haven’t met a cell yet I couldn’t get out of.
Toshiko: That’s why there was nothing left on the body. They need to eat. pause. We’re food.
Jack: We have to assume the others who disappeared have been killed too.
Owen: So you think there’s been seventeen deaths?
Jack: At least. These aren’t casual killers.
Owen: Okay. So this means the Rift is spreading and it’s dumping aliens and psychos wherever it lands.
Jack: Looks like that.
Owen: Great. This conversation’s cheered me up no end.
Jack: Okay, so we didn’t check the cellar.
Jack: You are wounded!
Gwen: You think that’s going to stop me?
No one’s safe. Every ten years. It takes us again.
What takes you? What is it?
The Harvest.
Jack: You need to know something. A long time ago I was pretty good at torture. You see, I had quite a reputation as the go-to guy. My job demanded it at the time, you see? So I know where to apply the tiniest amount of pressure to a wound like yours.
Tosh: Who is he?
Evan: He’s meat. I’m afraid we’re all just meat.
Tosh: They’re all involved. They’ve all been doing it.
Ewan: This is our harvest.
Owen: Only in the bloody countryside. You sick fuckers.
Gwen: All these things…. All these things, they’re changing me. Changing how I see the world. And I can’t share them with anyone.
Owen coming up behind her: You can now.