A Brit And A Redneck Walk Onto A Beach (Lost Fan Fiction)

1|01 Pilot: Part 1

Screaming. Crying. Blood. Pain shuddered through my skull. Raising a hand to my hair line, and bringing it back to look at it, there was a red stain covering my palm, but that was the least of my worries at this moment.

All around people lie dead or injured on the red sodden beach. Standing up to my wobbly legs, I tried to gain balance, and not allow the contents of my stomach to come back up. I did my best to take in my surroundings, but one of the lenses of my glasses was cracked, obscuring my view of the scene in front of me.

Everyone was in a panic. How did the plane crash? How did I survive? I hurt all over, I was pretty certain I had a concussion, and a good few cuts and bruises covering my skin. But I couldn't do anything about any of that.

I attempted to run closer to the commotion, but with every step my feet sunk into the warm sand, restricting any form of haste movement. To one side of the battered fuselage, the engine still ran at a high speed, with a man whom seemed dazed getting closer. He seemed familiar, but I wasn't certain as to why I recognised him.

"Hey," I shouted, waving wildly at him but he didn't seem to notice. He didn't seem to notice the hell that was occurring.

I stumbled over the dislodging sand until I could grip onto the man's arm to pull him away.

"Be careful. Get away from the engine," I panted, finding normal breathing hard with my injuries along with the overwhelming stench from the crash, "are you hurt?"

He frowned at me, looking as though I had been speaking a foreign language, before looking down to inspect himself and shaking his head.

"Good. Please these people need help. I'm a doctor... of sorts. I can't help everyone. Just get people away from the plane. It isn't safe. If you find anyone who is still breathing but unconscious call me. If there is anyone with more than superficial wounds call me," I directed to the stranger.

I had never been one to want to take a leadership role, I didn't enjoy telling people what to do, but seen as for all I knew I was the only one with a medical background I was going to have to do my best.

"What's your name?" The man asked.

"Lizzie."

"I'm Charlie."

"Okay Charlie. Please help anyone you can. Thank you."

With that I did my best to run away from Charlie to a woman that was unconscious on the floor. I fell to my knees next to her pressing two fingers to her neck, to check for a pulse. It was weak but still there.

Lacing my fingers together I began to do compressions on her chest, doing mouth to mouth also. Once I finished one round, I started a second. I didn't plan to give up on her. She was a stranger to me, but there was still hope.

A man ran over to you kneeling on the other side of the woman.

"Do you know what you are doing?" He asked.

"Does it look like I do?" I quipped.

"I'm a doctor," he stated, "do you need help?"

Before he even finished his sentence the woman gasped for breath. A smile instantly beamed across my face.

"Take deep breaths. You'll be okay," I smiled softly to her.

Looking up, the man looked impressed with what I had done. The whole way through medical school there was a general separation between males and females, but this didn't seem as though it was simply my gender that surprised him of my actions.