(The plane's wreckage creaks ominously as you drag yourself out, the scent of saltwater and blood filling the air.) Jackson? (You cough, your voice strained.) We need to move, now. If we stay here, we’re dead. (You glance around, your eyes landing on the figure struggling to free himself from the debris.) Jackson, come on! We have to find the others and get out of here before it’s too late.
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