Two children begin CRYING.

WOMAN: Preciso da tua ajuda. Por favor.

BELLANGER: I’m sorry?

WOMAN: Meu garoto está machucado. Sua irmã não vai se acalmar. Eles precisam...de uma história ou algo assim.

Subtitle: "My boy is hurt. His sister won’t calm down. They need...a story or something."

Bellanger shakes his head, not understanding what she’s saying.

In her hands are the tattered emigration paper.

WOMAN: Eu sei que este é um pedido tolo, mas quero que meus filhos se acalmem. E tenho certeza de que algumas das outras crianças gostariam de algo confortável para adormecer.

Subtitle: "I know this is a silly request, but I want my children to calm down. And I’m certain some of the other children would like something comfortable to fall asleep to."

ABIGALE: Do you speak Portuguese?

BELLANGER: No. I know three languages: Spanish, French, and Italian.

Bellanger turns to the woman again.

BELLANGER: I’m sorry, I-I don’t understand.

The Woman begins miming opening a book.

BELLANGER: A...a book?

The Woman nods. She points to the children - about five of them squirming by the fire.

WOMAN: Qualquer coisa está bem. Eles só precisam se acalmar e descansar.

She mimes "sleep".

A beat.

ABIGALE: What is she asking?

BELLANGER: A story for the young ones.

ABIGALE: I’m sure I can find a story if I have good light.

Bellanger nods. He turns and grabs a branch before sticking it into the fire. Abigale turns and scans the ground, heading into the darkness.

The woman nods, and Bellanger follows her into the darkness.

BELLANGER: I’ll find the book. You go back to the fire. Make up a story for right now.

Abigale hesitates, but nods. She returns to the fire with the Woman inquiring about why she’s come back.

57. EXT. THE WRECK - FOUR FORTY-FIVE IN THE MORNING

SLOW PAN: THE SURVIVORS THROUGH THE TREES, AS IF STALKING THEM.

Abigale reads a charred book. She’s struggling, trying to read around what the fire hasn’t burned. The light is poor.

The Woman rocks a small BOY in her arms, her hand placed protectively on his head and WHISPERING into his ear. The Boy’s clothes are ripped with splintered wood. A GIRL sits beside them, holding the Woman’s hand with both her hands.

ABIGALE (Almost whispering): "The girl sighed. ’You should have seen me when my mother and father took me to my first World’s Fair. I was f...’" fif-fifteen?

She brings the book closer to her face. The Woman looks to Abigale.

ABIGALE (Almost whispering):  Five? Four? Four. "’I was four, and I wandered away from my, parents. And I remember the exact reason - I wanted to ride the Ferris Wheel.’"

Abigale reading fades out.

Inspector Claude and Bellanger are standing about nearby.

BELLANGER: Qu'est-ce qu'on fait maintenant?

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Attendons le lever du soleil. La nuit a été longue.

Thunder RUMBLES in the distance. Bellanger SIGHS.

BELLANGER: Parfait.

A CRY arises from behind them. Inspector Claude and Bellanger turn to see another fire being built farther away. The two move towards it.

A few are moving the injured into a sheltered area. The injured are lying on ripped cushions and torn padding.

Those who are being moved are MOANING and GROANING in pain.

BELLANGER: What’s going on?

Gabriel appears out of the darkness, turns, and looks at Bellanger. He has a large bruise spanning from his ear down his neck, and his shoulder is slightly lower than the other. His arm hangs limply at his side, fingers twitching.

BELLANGER: What is this, boy?

GABRIEL: We’re putting the injured over here so I can look at them.

Gabriel takes a second look at them.

GABRIEL: Quick question: can you push my shoulder back into its socket?

BELLANGER: What?

GABRIEL: I just need you, need you to, to push it back it. Like, like up and over.

Gabriel mimes the motion.

BELLANGER: Why can’t you do it?

GABRIEL: Because banging it against a tree really doesn’t do much. And you’re right there doing nothing.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Qu'avez-vous besoin de nous pour faire?

Subtitle: "What do you need us to do?"

A beat.

GABRIEL: I don’t speak French.

Claude HARRUMPHS.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE (Through his teeth): What do you need me to do?

GABRIEL: Grab my arm.

Claude does so.

GABRIEL: Push up and over. Like, you’re trying to push my shoulder towards my head.

Claude braces himself, and pushes. A quiet CRACK sounds out, and Gabriel WHIMPERS before SIGHING loudly.

GABRIEL (Shaking): Wow. My professors told me about doing this, but don’t tell you about the pain.

He EXHALES again, and presses his back to a tree, watching his arms as Gabriel runs it through simple motions.

BELLANGER: Why are you moving these people?

Gabriel watches his fingers move individually. Claude looks back to the fire.

GABRIEL: I’ve moved them into a more sheltered area so I can look after them.

BELLANGER: You?

Gabriel sighs.

GABRIEL: I’m studying medicine, and going to Constantinople to study there. Do you have any problems with that, or do you want to take care of them?

A pause. Thunder RUMBLES again.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Je n'ai rien attrapé de ça. Je n'écoutais pas.

Subtitle: "I didn’t catch any of that. I wasn’t listening."

BELLANGER (Whispering): Il connaît la médecine, alors il - 

GABRIEL: May I go back to attending these people?

Claude nods, and goes back to the fire.

BELLANGER: How can you help them?

Gabriel’s still doing simple motions, now with his wrist. He’s breathing heavily.

GABRIEL: We might be here for a while. I’m not qualified...at all, but I want to help. As best I can.

BELLANGER: Do you need anything?

GABRIEL: Anything considered medicine would be appreciated.

BELLANGER: What if -

GABRIEL: It would be helpful if you could find...anything.

Bellanger nods.

BELLANGER: We’ll begin searching when the light is better.

Gabriel nods, and turns back to the injured. He’s still doing simple motions.

Bellanger returns to the fire.

BELLANGER: Why do you insist on speaking in French when you can understand English?

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: J'ai mes raisons.

Subtitle: "I have my reasons."

Claude turns and disappears into the darkness. Bellanger SIGHS and watches the fire.

58. EXT. THE WRECK - FIVE IN THE MORNING

Darkness. The stars are gone, replaced by a cloudy sky. Pitch black still surrounds the survivors. Abigale still reads, but her exhaustion is slowly getting the best of her. She’s nodding off.

ABIGALE (Wearily): "The weather made the Boardwalk feel old and tired, despite the Ferris Wheel turning and the bandstand still producing music."

SOMETHING PASSES IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA.

ABIGALE (Wearily): "But Aiden turned his collar up to the wind sweeping in from the Atlantic, and slipped into the doors of the Hotel Traymore. ’Can I help you,’ asked a clerk from the nearby reception. Aiden shook - "

She pauses, looking up and staring hard into the darkness.

WOMAN: Continue lendo. Vai. Vai.

Abigale slowly sits.

ABIGALE: Uh, "A-Aiden shook his head, the heels of his shoes echoing across the empty lobby. ’No,’ he admitted quite sheepishly, ’I was actually looking for someone.’"

Something bright flashes briefly in the darkness before disappearing. Abigale stands.

ABIGALE: Meiseur Claude?

No answer.