Lost through the eyes of a cop from Glasgow

Ok, here is my brand new set of "Lost through the eyes of a cop from Glasgow" fanfics. I rpomise i will try and get as many episodes done as possible, so look out for them. Here is the first installment, just to give you a taste of things to come.

The pilot part 1

As the wind blew gently through the trees the sound of rustling leaves in the tree tops and the creaking of swaying branches could be heard. It was a calm and soothing sound, almost rhythmic. A lone leaf fell from the canopy and made its way down to the ground. It glided softly down, spiralling and swaying gently as the breeze carried it until eventually it landed on the face of a man.

The man’s chocolate brown, blood shot, eyes jerked open as the leaf touched his face. At first he just lay there, not moving, like in a trance. He could see the light from above, shining down from the canopy, warming his skin as it touched it. The man relaxed his head, allowing it to fall gently to the left. As it did the man’s eyes blinked, before looking upon the new image, a lining of trees, which seemed to continue on for ages.

The man squinted and rolled his head back so he was looking back up at the tree canopy. His head was throbbing with pain and he squinted harder to try and block out the pain, but it did very little.

The man pushed himself up to sitting, making his head spin wildly and making his rather dizzy. His head swayed a little as he tried to follow the spinning trees in front of him.

After a short while his head had stopped spinning. The man scrunched his hands up into a claw, digging up a small portion of earth as he did. He looked at his right hand and lifted the hand up with the dirt. The man Looked at it for a moment and then looked around him at all the trees. He looked back at the earth in his hand before placing it down and tilting his head to the right, realising that his ear was wet. He reached up to touch it, and brought his hand back down, but it was not water, but blood. He sighed at the sight and asked himself.
Where the hell am I?

He tilted his head back towards the sky, and saw a gap in the canopy which he had fallen through. He could also see a plane seat up in the canopy. He looked up at the clear blue sky. There was not a cloud in the sky, other than one, long one which stretched all the way across the gap, and further. The man raised an eye brow at this, as it almost looked like the fumes that came out the back of aeroplanes.

Suddenly, their was a creaking sound from above. The man turned his gaze slightly to the chair stuck in the tree. It was inconveniantly right above him, and looked like it was about to fall. The man stared at it for a few more seconds before realising what was happening.

Instinct kicked in and he pushed himself up towards his left, however only managed to roll to the left. As he braced himself, the object crashed into the ground, where the man had been sitting. The man held his head tight into his chest and arched his back up as the object hit. It made a loud thud as it hit the ground, and parts of earth flew up into the air and landed on his back. The seat then fell sideways and then lay still. The man slowly came out of his defensive position and edged closer to the seat.

The seat wa blue, and white and it had "Flight 815" sowed into the head rest. The seat itself looked badly damaged, for one it looked like it had been ripped out of its place. It had large twigs and sticks spiking out of it and the seatbelt strap was broken, which was probably what was holding the thing up in the tree.

Suddenly, it all came back to the man, like a huge flood of memories. He had been on a plane, this plane, flight 815, in fact, thi was his seat. He couldn’t remember much of the flight, but that wasn’t the main problem, the main problem was that he wasn’t on a plane; he was in a jungle of some sort.

The man was getting worried now. He had been on this flight, and he was now looking at
his seat on this flight. the fact his seat wasn't on the plane was a worrying thought, even if that fat he wasn't on the plane wasn't. Something bad must have happened to his flight.

The man then picked up his wallet. His memory was a little fuzzy and he needed reminding of a few important things, all of which he contained within his wallet. As he opened it he saw a photograph of a man and a woman on a peer in the rain. He assumed he was the man as he recognised the woman straight away. He looked through it some more and saw that he had $7.50. Not exactly the richest man in the world, however, he doesn’t really remember why he only ended up with that amount of cash on him.

There wasn’t anything else interesting in his wallet, other than a few more photo’s his credit cards and a membership to the thruster buster gym, Sydney. However, the membership was of some use. It told him his name, which was Greg Young.

He searched his pockets some more and found a key. The key was strange; it didn’t look like it fitted a car or a house. It was too small to fit anything he knew of.

He placed everything back into his wallet and sat back, happy he had jogged his memory. Now he had the problem of figuring out where he was. He looked around again to make sure nothing had changed and that it had turned out to just be a bad dream. After realising it was real he forced himself up to a standing position. He still felt a bit dizzy and wobbled on his feet. He looked around to see which direction he should do and took a step. He stumbled almost instantly, but a tree broke his fall and caught him before he could do too much damage to himself. He lent against the tree. This was going to be harder than he had first anticipated.

He groaned as there was a sharp pain in his side. He placed his hand on his left side and pressed gently, however the pain excruciating and made him wince and grit his teeth. He must have bruised it pretty bad on the fall down, but at least he didn’t have anything sticking out of it, like a branch. Greg shook his head, unwilling to let this stop him, and he pushed himself off the tree and to a standing position before he made his way blindly through the jungle.

As he stumbled he felt the need to use the trees as balance, so found himself stumbling from tree to tree, which worked quite well, as he didn’t fall over for a while, despite his shaky legs, which felt like they could collapse at any moment.

After a while everything seemed to look the same. The only thing stopping Greg from thinking about whether he was going in circles was the fact that he had been travelling in a straight line, from one tree to another. It seemed that he had been travelling through the jungle for hours, however, that wasn’t the case, as he had only travelled a few yards from where he had fallen from the sky.

Suddenly. He heard rustling from the bushes beside him. Greg stopped dead in his tracks and listened. Apart from his heavy breathing there wasn’t a sound, not even the usual hustle and bustle of the jungle, which was very weird. The sound of bushes rustling sounded again, this time from behind him. Before Greg knew what was going on he heard something bounding towards him. He spun around, forgetting completely about his injuries to see……….a dog.

The dog brushed past him at a casual jog and headed the way Greg had been going before stopping and turning around. The dog had a golden coat which was almost untainted other than a few twigs and leaves dotted around its back. It had a collar on, so it must have belonged to someone, probably someone on the plane. It panted as it stared at Greg with its big, wide eyes.

Greg tilted his head and stared blankly at the dog, wondering what it wanted, before he decided to ask,
“Do you want me to follow you?” Greg said, before raising an eye brow and snorting at what he had just done, he was obviously madder than he first thought.

However the dog had other ideas and as soon as Greg had said it the dog jogged off through the trees.

Greg didn’t know whether it understood him or not, but he decided to follow the dog, as he obviously wasn’t getting anywhere by himself. He didn’t bother thinking whether it was crazy him following a dog through the jungle or not, he just did it, and hoped for the best.

Greg struggled to keep up with the dog. Although he had suddenly been given a new lease of life his still struggled to walk in a straight line and found himself leaning against a tree every few meters, however the trees were much farther apart, meaning the forest was thinning out.

Greg could smell a horrible, burning smell, mixed with seas water. Greg assumed he was getting closer to the sea, which would explain the smell, and the trees thinning out. Mixed with the smell of burning, it would be apparent that the plane crashed on the beach, or the sea.

Greg cringed at the thought of the plane crashing at all. The very thought sent shivers down his spine, and made him feel sick. Even thought Greg didn’t like it, he had to reach the wreckage so he could help others and wait for rescue.

The dog was gone; it had disappeared into the forest, at which Greg couldn’t see into. However Greg was now following his nose and his ears had picked up faint noises, one was a low buzzing sound, the others were higher in pitch and as he got closer, he realised it was crying, people crying.

The new sounds pushed Greg on. He was more determined than ever to reach the beach. He pushed himself to his very limit to make it through the shrubs and trees, ignoring the pain as best he could.

However despite his efforts he felt like he was taking one step forward and two steps back. What was worse was the smell of burning was making him light headed and he started to feel dizzy again. He tried to fight it but as the smell got stronger his head started to spin more, until eventually he blacked out and collapsed to the ground.

_________________
"Take what you can and give nothing back!"
"Trust is the hardest thing to gain, yet the easiest thing to loose,"

Heres a long episode to keep you reading until I can post my next one. I am very excited about my fanfics as i have a lot of things I can do in them. I try to have bits in from sawbucks fanfics so the two sort of cross over what with Sawbucks being the only one who could possibly know what Chris would get up to. Anywho, The Pilot part 2 is up now, I may have to do it in more than 3 parts, depending on how much I want to put in my next episode.

The Pilot part 2

When the blackness cleared, Greg was staring at the clear blue sky. The streak that had torn through it was now gone and the sky was finally clear once more. Greg was laying on soft, warm sand which he ran through his fingers and drew swirling patterns in.

He felt relaxed; the only sounds were the creaking of the trees in the wind, and the melodic sound of the waves crashing gently on the beach. Greg closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It seemed he was finally out of the nightmare, and even though he didn’t know why he was on a beach he didn’t really care.

However all was not so quiet for long. He started to hear someone calling to someone,
“Hey, hey you, wake up, come on, wake up!” the voice called, Greg tried to ignore it but was shocked awake by a loud, piercing scream.

Greg’s eyes jerked open for what seemed like too soon to fin himself back in his nightmare, staring at the scared sky, which was blocked out by the amount of smoke an fumes that were about.

The first thing Greg noticed was the horrendous, deafening sound of the planes engines, crunching and grinding as it tried to stay alive, not the best thing to be doing. Also the screams of women and men ringing throughout the beach. The constant, high pitched squeals and shrills were enough to wake the dead, although it didn’t seem to be working, as many still lay dead around the crash site.

Although he knew it wouldn’t be the best idea, he felt the need to turn his head and look upon the disaster that lay before him. He let his head fall to the left, only to find himself looking upon hell itself. People were running all over the place, screaming with panic and jumping over the dieing who were either still trapped under bits of wreckage or had been freed from there steal prisons, only to find themselves dieing somewhere else.

The putrid smell of burning fuel and choking fumes were enough to almost send Greg back to his more pleasant dream, however, this time it just reminded him of his incredibly large headache.

None of it felt real. Greg stared at the flaming wreckage for long enough and yet it felt like nothing more than a film on a very life like set or in a very high definition cinema. However, it was no movie, tragedy hasn’t escaped this disaster, it had hit it, and hit it hard.

“Hey, dude, your wake! Dude, I thought you would be out for…..like….ages,” A man said, he was heavily built, and had long, wavy, brown hair.
“Wha….” Greg started to say but his throat was raw and once the fumes got into his lungs he started having a bad coughing fit before he could finish his sentence.
“Whoa, take it easy. I don’t want you to…like… die on me or anything,” The man said, obviously being friendly towards Greg, but Greg couldn’t stop choking on the fumes. “We should probably get you away from these fumes man. I’ll get help. Hang in there dude,” The man said before standing up, however as he started to jog off he said, “Ow wait, I’m Hurley by the way,” And before Greg could reply once he had stopped coughing the man was jogging rather laboriously down the beach.

Greg lay there for a moment, not really thinking about anything. His head already had a lot to think about, and he was tired. He lifted up his head and pulled up his shirt slowly. He winced as it revealed a huge, nasty bruise, which wasn’t as colourful as he knew it would be in a few hours time, it was reddish purple at the moment, but still hurt like a B***h.

After a minute or two the large man returned with another man, he was fairly tall and looked decent enough.
“Is this the guy?” The man asks, his accent Greg recognised distinctly as Scottish.
“Yes, this is him. I need help moving him. he is pretty much out of it and I don’t think I could have managed on my own,” The large man said, who apparently was called Hurley, although that was probably a nickname.
“Ok, I’ll get this side and you get that side, alright?” The Scottish man said, Hurley nodded and the Scottish man pulled one of Greg’s arms and brought it over his shoulder to support Greg’s left side. Hurley then supported the right side and then both started to take Greg up the beach. Greg was still mostly out of it. He had no idea what was going on and didn’t feel like he had control over any part of his body, other than the involuntary actions, such as blinking and breathing.

Once they reached the tree line they rested Greg down against a tree. Greg could feel the clearer air filling his lungs, but coughed up the old air, just to get it out of his system.
“There you go, you should be safer up here,” The Scottish man says,
“Thanks,” Greg manages to squeeze out of his throat, his voice still a bit groggy.
“Don’t mention it. I had better get off. There are more people who need my help. See ya around……ow and I’m Chris By the way, Chris Murray,” The Scottish man said,
“I’m Greg young,” Greg said, finding he could only manage short sentences before his voice box gave in and his head didn’t start jumbling everything up and making it hard to concentrate.
“I’ll remember that,” Chris said, before jogging down the beach, more elegantly than the large man had earlier.

Once Chris had gone Greg turned his head slightly to the man named Hurley and said,
“Guess I owe you a thank you. God knows how long it would have taken someone to find me if you hadn’t shown up,” Greg said
“Dude, what are you on about, I didn’t find you. I was told you were there,” Hurley said, slightly confused by Greg’s comment.
“But I collapsed in the jungle, I know that much,” Greg said, now he was confused too. If he collapsed in the jungle then what was he doing on the beach unless someone had found it.
“I didn’t find you dude. All I know is some British chick came up to me and asked me to keep an eye on you, so I did,” Hurley said. This made a lot more sense to Greg, clearing up the moment of relapse. Greg knew that Hurley meant English when he said British. Most if not all Americans, or people outside the UK to be honest, used British instead of English. To Greg, British people were people from the British isle, being English, Scottish Welsh and those from Northern Ireland, all of which were part of the British Isles. However Greg knew Most, if not all Americans didn’t know of this, so he just went a log with people calling the English the British instead.
“Ah ok. So do you know where I could find her? I would like to thank her for getting me out of the forest,” Greg said, not being one to pass up thanking someone for possibly saving his life.
“Sorry dude but she disappeared after she spoke to me. She could be anywhere out there with the rest of the survivors,” Hurley said, nodding towards the flaming wreckage, which was still burning, and still had people running around, although the panic had died down a little, and most of the people running around were doing so to help people who were still trapped or injured.
“Ok, well, if you do see her around, tell her I want to thank her in person, for saving me,” Greg said, feeling his voice getting better. His throat was still dry but the smoke was clearing from his lungs, so he could say longer sentences without taking a breath every 5 seconds.
“Ok, will do. I will go and find you some water, you must be thirsty,” Hurley said, Greg nodded and said,
“Thanks, I appreciate it,”
“No problem, we have to stick together, us survivors,” Hurley said before smiling and standing up to head off towards the wreckage.

Greg laid back and rested his head against the tree. He could see the smoke still rising from the wreckage. He thought about what had happened, what had caused the plane to crash. This led to him trying to remember the time before he woke up in the forest. The more he thought about it, the clearer, it got, like a jigsaw puzzle, until eventually it was as clear as if he was there at the time.

In a flashback, Greg is on the plane, flight 815 from Sydney to L.A. He was sat at the back of the fuselage, a few rows in front of where the tail section began. He was sat on the far right isle of the plane, at a window seat with no one next to him. He preferred it this way, he didn’t like long journeys with someone sat next to him, unless it was obviously someone he cared about.

Greg suddenly felt his phone vibrate, indicating he had a text. He got out his phone and read the text. The text read,

Don’t do this, please!

Jess xxx

Greg frowned at the text, grasping the phone tighter with rage. He felt like throwing the phone out of the window. How dare she, she had no right to tell him what to do, especially after all she has done. He had to do it, he had to, and there was no other choice.
Greg switched the phone off, so it wouldn’t distract him again and stared out of the window. He could see nothing but a carpet of white, blanketing the sky. It relaxed him, made him think of what was waiting for him in L.A.

“Excuse me sir? Would you like a drink?” A soft, polite voice said. Greg jerked his head to the flight attendant, who had startled him, waking him from his day dream. He smiled and said,
“Only if you have something stronger than juice and water,” The woman smiled and said,
“I will see what I can do sir,” Before pushing her trolley down to the back of the fuselage and turning it into an area which separated the Fuselage from the Tail section.

Greg laid back and waited patiently for his drink. A few moments later, the flight attendant, a young attractive woman with long brown hair which she had tied back, returned, carrying two tiny, plastic bottles of Vodka.
“Don’t drink them all at once, there’s no more after that” She said, smiling a friendly, shining smile.
“Much appreciated miss,” Greg said, smiling back. Once the woman had gone, he put one bottle into his pocket and quickly opened the other, before downing the bottle in one, small swig.
“One more I think, might make this flight more bearable,” Greg said, getting out the other bottle, however as he opened it the plane gave a slight jerk, causing him to spill it all over himself. “Damn it, what a waste of alcohol,” Greg said, standing up to head to the toilet. As he did a man brushed past him, being perused by three flight attendants, one female, the other two were male.
“Excuse me, sir!” The woman shouted after the man as he made his way up to the cockpit.
“What’s his problem?” Greg said, shaking his head, before heading towards the toilets. As he did he saw two other people already waiting “Why does everyone need to use the toilet when I need to?” Greg mumbled as he approached the queue. One of the men noticed he was approaching and said,
“These toilets sure are popular at this time,” His accent was American
“I just need to clean myself up,” Greg said, revealing the large stain on his shirt.
“Looks nasty, Vodka is it?” The other man said, his accent was Scottish
“How did you figure that one out?” Greg asks,
“I am Scottish, we are practically all born with a good sense of alcohol,” The man chuckled, joking about the stereotypes connected with the Scottish.
“Ah good one, well I had better get back to my seat. I didn’t really need the toilet anyway. It was great seeing you again, Chris was it?” Greg asks,
“Yes, that’s right,” The man named Chris said.
“I told you I would remember it. I will see you around then,” Greg said,
“I am sure you will,” Chris said smiling before the bathroom door opened and a rather good looking woman walked out, she had curly black hair and tanned skin. She looked at Greg who gave her a quick nod before he headed back to his seat.

As Greg headed back to his seat the plane gave another shake, however, this one was more violently. Greg stumbled and only managed to stay on his feet by grabbing the back of an empty chair. He looked at the man sitting in the seat next to the one Greg had a hold of. He looked at him and frowned. Greg smiled at the man but said nothing.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has switched on the ‘fasten seatbelts’ sign. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts,” A woman’s voice said over the intercom.
“You don’t need to tell me love. I am already on it,” Greg said as he made his way to his seat. As he does the trolley comes rolling down the isle. “Bugger,” Greg says as he quickly leaps out of the way into his row and sits in the empty seat next to his proper seat, for convenience. Greg fumbles with his seat belt and just managed to clip it before the plane give a huge, groaning shake, causing his to be lifted out of his seat, but his seat belt caught him, digging into his thigh. Greg gritted his teeth, both to block the sharp pain but also because the turbulence had become so strong.

Suddenly oxygen masks fall from the roof. Greg quickly puts his on and takes a breath, however nothing comes out. He tires again but there was no oxygen coming from the mask. Stupid piece of cr*p Greg thinks as he takes it off.

He notices that his previous seat mask had fallen too. He tried to reach out for it but couldn’t quite reach it. He looked around for something to help him reach the mask. He thinks of an idea and takes off one of his shoes. He tries to hit the mask, which he manages after a few hits which swings back and then towards him. He grabs it after its second swing and quickly slips the mask on.

Already all the other passengers had there masks on. Greg could see them all, hunched over with there eyes closed, like they were sleeping. It was a very eerie sight indeed.

The plane gave a creaking sound. Followed by a loud groaning sound, which filled Greg with nothing but worry, and fear. Suddenly the tail section of the plane was torn off by the force of the planes decent. The backwards pull was immense and Greg could feel all the air being sucked from the fuselage. Luckily his mask was working and he was starting to feel light headed. He could just see luggage and other objects flying past him and out of the gaping hole before his eyes closed, however before he went unconscious he could feel his chair moving in its place, before the force eventually pulled it out of its place, causing it, and him in I, to free fall through the air, by which time he was already unconscious.

Back on the beach Greg was waken by someone kicking his right foot, which was missing a shoe, which he didn’t realise until now. As he opened his eyes a woman’s voice, with an English accent said,
“See, I told you he wasn’t dead,”
“But dude he was pretty bad when I left him. I guess I just like….freaked out,” The man named Hurley said, looking a bit sheepish. He then looked at Greg and said. “I brought you some water, ow and this is that girl who found you dude.” Hurley said before the woman bent down to look Greg dead in the eyes and said,
“Hey, I’m Rachel,” in an awfully up beat tone for someone who had just experienced a plane crash. Greg’s eyes widened as he looked at her Wow, she’s hot Was all he could think.
“Could you pass me the water?” Greg asks,
“Sure,” The woman named Rachel said, passing him a bottle of water. Greg drank 3 large gulp full’s and poured the rest over his head, jst to make sure he wasn’t day dreaming before saying,
“That’s better, now where was I?” Greg said,
“Well, you were about to tell me your name,” Rachel said
“Ah, right, ok, well. I’m Greg, Greg Young. Your accent, its English right?” Greg asks, Rachel chuckles and says,
“How observant of you. Yours is too, can I ask where you are from?” Greg frowns at the question as he thinks of an answer. He then comes up with,
“I ……well…..I am not…really from….anywhere,”
“Ah I get it, man of mystery, I like it!” Rachel said, she seemed way too enthusiastic to be real. All Greg could do was smile, however he had a raised eyebrow as he attempted to hold back is concern over her wildly animated personality.
“So, Rachel, I wanted to say something to you…..errr….ow that was it. I wanted to thank you for getting me out of the forest and onto the beach, so……thank you,” Greg said, smiling politely.
“Your welcome. I would say it was easy but it wasn’t you weigh a tonne!” Rachel said, chuckling afterwards. Greg smiled and said,
“Well thank you all the same; I don’t know where I would be without you,” Greg said,
“No worries, I guess my survival instincts just kicked in,” Rachel said before she stood up and said,
“Right, well, I am going to find the Doctor, to sort out your injury,” Rachel said,
“A bruise is hardly a life threatening injury, and I will find him later. I can walk you know.” Greg said,
“Yes, but the Doctor thinks he is too busy to help you out, but he has seen to all the major casualties and its time you got seen to.” She said before storming off down the beach to find the doctor. Greg watched her go, checking her out as he did before smiling and turning his head to look at Hurley, who he just realised was still sat there, smiling,
“What?!” Greg said
“You like her dude,” He said, still smiling,
“I do not!” Greg said, trying to defend himself,
“Yes you do, I saw the way you looked at her dude, very sneaky,” Hurley said,
“Don’t you have something better to do, like give water out to people instead of trying to catch me out?” Greg said,
“Sure thing dude. I’ll see ya around,” Hurley said before walking off, turning around to stick two thumbs up at Greg, who just shook his head. Greg then lay back and looked upon the beach, which now was much calmer than before. Greg couldn’t get the thought of the Rachel woman out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. He stuck his hand into his pocket and started to play around with the key he had. He then stopped and took it out and looked at it, with an eyebrow raised. What the hell does this key belong to? He said, running it through his fingers, he then stopped, and his eyes widened. He looked back at the key and said.
“The case!”

_________________
"Take what you can and give nothing back!"
"Trust is the hardest thing to gain, yet the easiest thing to loose,"

I've read episode 1 and I'll read episode 2 ASAP!
All I can say is.....WOW! I am so glad that this series is back!
Keep up the good work Blitz! Very Happy

_________________

Thanks Ben. I have started the pilot part 3. I think i may have to do 4 parts to the pilot as it is such a long winded eiposde with so much that needs sorting out so the episodes after it make sense, as well as flashbacks and what not it all adds up to tremendously long episodes.

_________________
"Take what you can and give nothing back!"
"Trust is the hardest thing to gain, yet the easiest thing to loose,"