Thunderbird in Lost

Shot of Alan's eye opening, looking up at the bamboo. Overhead shot panning out to show Alan is lying injured on the ground. Alan sees a dog, slowly gets up, in pain. Finds a little liquor bottle in his pocket. Then he runs though the bamboo and ends up at the beach. People screaming. He sees the wreckage. People limping and calling for help. Shot of the engine still spinning. Kyrano is getting too close to it. Brains screaming. Penelope calling for Tin-Tin.]

Blue shirt: Stay away from the gas. Stay there.

[Gordon screaming. Alan looks up at the wing.]

Blue shirt#2 [trapped under the piece with the still moving engine]: Help. Help. Somebody help me. Ahh, my leg.

Alan: Give me a hand. You, c'mon, come over here. Give me a hand. [A group of Blueshirts (and Hood) gather around to lift the metal piece that's trapping the man.] On the count of 3: 1, 2, 3.

[Alan pulls the man out from under. One leg is bloody. Alan starts ripping the man's pants to get to the wound. Jack uses his tie as a tourniquet.]

Virgil: Help. Somebody please help me. Please help me.

[We see Virgil is pregnant and on her hands and knees. Alan sees her.]

Alan [to a Blueshirt and Hood]: Okay, get him out of here. Get him away from the engine. Get him out of here.

[He runs over to Virgil through a lot of wreckage.]

Virgil: Help me please. I'm having contractions.

Alan: How many months pregnant are you?

Virgil: I'm nearly 8 months.

[Alan looks over and sees doing CPR on John.]

Alan [to Virgil]: How far apart are they coming?

Virgil: I don't know, a few just happened.

[Shot of Hood and Blueshirt carrying bad-leg-guy away. Another guy starts walking in front of the engine and Hood sees him.]

Hood: Hey, hey, get away:

[The guy gets sucked into the engine and the engine explodes. Shot of people running. Alan sort of falls on top of Virgil to protect her.]

Alan: Listen to me, we're gonna: you're going to be okay, understand me. But you have to sit absolutely still.

[Alan looking at Scott giving John mouth-to-mouth.]

Alan [to Jeff]: Hey, you, come here. I need you to get this woman away from these fumes. Take her over there and stay with her. If her contractions occur any closer than 3 minutes apart call out to me.

Jeff: Oh, you've got to be kidding me. (Alan starts running off). Hey, what's your name?

Alan: Alan.

[Alan runs up to Scott and John.]

Alan: Stop. Her head's not tilted far back enough. You're blowing air into her stomach.

Scott: You sure?

[Alan starts giving her mouth-to-mouth. ]

Scott: That's exactly what I was doing. I'm a lifeguard. I'm licensed.

Alan: Yeah, well, you need to seriously think about giving that license back.

Scott: Maybe we should do one of those hole things. You know, stick the pen in the throat?

Alan: Yeah, good idea, you go get me a pen.

[Scott runs off to get pens.]

Alan [doing CPR]: C'mon, c'mon.

[John breathes.]

Alan: Big deep breaths, take breaths.

[Sound of metal. Alan looks up to see a big piece of metal high up (the wing) on some of the wreckage starting to wobble. Virgil and Jeff are right under where it would fall. Alan runs over to them. ]

Alan [as he's running]: Move, move, move! Get her up! Get her out of there!

[Alan, Jeff, and Virgil run out of way as there is a huge explosion. A big piece of burning debris lands near .]

Alan[to Virgil]: You okay?

Virgil: Yeah.

JACK [to Jeff]: You... [Jeff sort of nods lying on the ground]. Stay with her.

Jeff: Dude, I'm not going anywhere.

[Alan sort of stumbling around the beach, looks into the fuselage. Takes a moment to steady himself, almost crying.]

Scott [walking up holding out a handful of pens]: I didn't know which one would work best.

Alan: They're all good. Thanks.

[Shot of Alan going through a suitcase, and finding a sewing kit. Alan going to a deserted part of the beach and taking his jacket and shirt off. He has a big gash on his side. Parker comes walking by, doesn't know Alan is there. Parker rubbing her wrist.]

Alan: Excuse me. Did you ever use a needle?

Parker: What?

Alan: Did you ever: patch a pair of jeans?

Parker: I, um, I made the drapes in my apartment.

Alan: That's fantastic. Listen, do you have a second. I could use a little help here.

[Parker walks over to him.]

Parker: Help with what?

[Alan shows her the wound, and she grimaces.]

Alan: Look, I'd do it myself, I'm a doctor, but I just can't reach it.

Parker: You want me to sew that up?

Alan: It's just like the drapes, same thing.

Parker: No, with the drapes I used a sewing machine.

Alan: No, you can do this. I'm telling you. If you wouldn't mind.

[Alan looks at her pleadingly.]

Parker: Of course I will.

Alan: Thank you; [handing her the little liquor bottle from his pocket] It's for your hands. Save me some for the, for the wound.

[Parker picks up a little sewing kit.]

Parker: Any color preference?

Alan [laughing]: Standard black.

[Alan dumps the vodka on his wound.]