Disclaimer: Lost is owned by ABC Television and was created by Jeffrey Lieber, J. J. Abrams and Damon Lindelof, produced by Bad Robot Productions. I don't own it but I love it!
"Water is the life-giver and the death-bringer." -Michael Scott
It was dawn and another day on Monster Island for all of us. There was no sign of rescue. I already did a run for fruit, a long trunk of bananas.
The bananas grow with their tops attached to a trunk that bends over like an elephant's. The banana ends point up like a rows of smiles in clusters of 100-150. The trunks that hold them can grow up to 20 feet high. It takes about 6 months to replenish them after I harvest bananas off of one.
It's heavy but easier than climbing tree after tree for mangos or guava. I can throw the haul over my shoulder and bring it back to camp for breakfast in one trip. The trunk it's attached to feels like twisted manila rope, one that might be found on a big ship. It's strong and 2-3 inches thick.
I made it back to find the camp had erupted into chaos. People were standing on the beach looking out and I heard someone yelling for help. Another person was swimming for them. I couldn't recognize who was in the water and quickly left the bananas on a large, flat piece of wreckage that doubles as a table.
I ran down to the beach to find out Jack had gone after the person in distress. I could see his back. His bare upper body and strong arms were fighting to climb the waves to reach them in time.
Charlie quickly filled me in. The original swimmer was a woman named Joanna. Boone dove in first to save her. She swam every morning but have been caught in a current. Now they both were in trouble.
I pensively scanned the waves, looking for Jack and the other two. I was rooted to the spot momentarily, unable to do anything.
Jack had disappeared twice under the waves in a diving motion and came up with someone the second time. It was Boone! He had him by the neck and across the chest swimming with his right arm vigorously to get them both back to shore.
As soon as they were close enough, Charlie and I ran into the water to take Boone and half-carried him to the beach. The other person, Joanna, was still calling for help. Jack couldn't save both at one time with no raft or life jackets. She was much further out.
As soon as we took Boone, I saw Jack swimming out again. "Jack!" I shouted. Jack was already winded from exertion, his muscular torso was heaving to catch his breath when he dragged Boone in. By the time I called to him, he was already several yards out.
He heard me and looked back quickly, yelling over the water. "There's someone else out there!" He dove immediately after, not waiting. I was afraid he wouldn't make it back. The waves were high and she was too far out.
We made sure Boone was okay. He was exhausted and brooding. Someone came up with a blanket and water for him and we helped him get away from the water to rest. As soon as I could leave, I ran for the shore again to wait for him.
If I was still the praying type, I would be saying a litany over and over. Instead I begged whatever or whoever was listening to me to please bring him back.
I waited for Jack. He was already drained from getting Boone but swam with dogged determination. How was he going to save another person and fight the current that battled every stroke his muscular arms took? His strength was irrelevant when it came to water.
Water's strength trumped humans. It reshaped earth, rocks and carved out canyons. It could wipe away any structure man or nature made.
When I was 15, I stood in torrential river current that barely came to my knees. It was after rafting with Dad and one of his army buddies. I couldn't stand up and walk 5 yards to shore without being knocked over and swept further downstream. It took a guide's rope to pull me in.
I watched Jack's head bob between the waves rolling in.
I knew him well enough to know he wasn't going to let tiredness or any lecture on water stop him. He was going to do whatever he could to save her. I was worried.
I bit on my thumb and watched him anxiously as his bare back disappeared and reappeared, fighting to get beyond the waves to get to her. He was too far to call in from where I stood.
Her hand and voice were gone by then.
He wasn't even half-way there.
She had slipped into the deceptively beautiful, blue water dappled with green.
I finally did say small prayer when Jack turned back. It was simple and laden with sadness for someone I didn't know and relief for his return.
I gave Jack some space when he trudged back onto the beach. He came back angry and defeated at the same time. He went directly to his tent to dry off and change.
Afterwards, I walked quickly to catch up with Jack. He was stuffing his backpack.
He wanted to know everything he could about Joanna. He asked if I could get the information before he went to change. I already did while waiting for him to return to shore.
I could read his face. Defeat and frustration poured off of him. He was blaming himself.
Jack looked exhausted. His scruff was thick on his face, in need of a trim or shave. He had grey shadows under his eyes. He took the woman drowning personally, even though it was impossible for him to save both people.
Jack had saved Boone. It was the right choice to bring him in first. Even if Boone wasn't out there, Jack might have made it to save Joanna, but there was no telling him that.
It was a horrible thing, choosing who lives. Didn't he have to do that as a doctor in the hospital, make choices on who to operate on and was the most urgent case? How did he deal with it then?
I knew about triage from Tommy. Even though we had broken up by then, we'd catch up briefly when he would visit his family from college. He went to college, then medical school over the 6 years post-high school before I bolted from Ames.
If Jack didn't make those kind of decisions today, we might have lost three people including him. It made my heart lurch to think of it. Six days into this, I felt an attachment to this man, now angry and self-castigating.
"Hey!" I said as I caught up with him. He was carrying a tall mirror from the fuselage bathroom under his arm, a reflective surface mirroring the tension in his legs as he walked.
"So, what did they say?" Jack asked.
I looked at his face. His eyes looked tortured, angry. He was mad, not only at the situation but I could see a dire need for rest. I softened my voice. "Jack, maybe you should . . ."
"Who was she?" He looked at me and already knew what I was about to suggest. He wasn't interested. He wanted information and he wanted it then. I started to talk and we walked on, the mirror glinting in the sun, catching the sand and reflecting his long gait and my shorter one trying to keep up.
"Her name was Joanna. She wasn't supposed to be on the plane. She went scuba diving off the Barrier Reef and got an ear infection. Doctor grounded her two days, so she bumped her flight. That's how she ended up with us."
Jack shook his head and looked at me. "She was swimming this morning, Kate. Just swimming! The riptide caught her. We've been here six days and we never talked. I never said a word to her. There were. . ."
"Jack, don't." I begged softly, trying to stop him from the path he was headed down, the spiral into self-loathing from failure that didn't belong to him. I've dealt with personal spirals over the years. This wasn't on him. Nobody blamed Jack.
"Forty-seven of us! There are forty-seven survivors and I didn't say a single word to her."
"You tried." I was firm but kind. He did the best he could. He didn't create the riptide or ask her to go swim. It was an accident or what might be called an act of nature.
Jack stopped walking and put the mirror down, propping it up in the infirmary at a tilt. I saw both of us reflected back in a skewed way, like a carnival mirror.
Jack turned and looked me, gazing into the depths of my eyes. I stood close to him, wishing to do the impossible, soothe and unburden him somehow.
"No. I didn't. I thought maybe I could . . . I thought I could bring him back and still have time. I was there, in the water. I didn't try." His eyes held all the emotions I had seen plus a deep sadness. "I decided not to go after her."
I didn't know what to say. He was exhausted and words of comfort would be lost on him. His mind was steaming ahead on a rigid, well-worn track.
Jack's face suddenly turned white. His expression changed to shock. He extended his neck and looked over me to something in the distance. He moved and took three steps forward, passing me by. "Jack?" I asked. I turned 180 degrees to see what had enthralled him.
He didn't answer, his face transfixed.
Jack was staring at the ocean shore. He looked like he had seen a ghost. His eyes were fixated on something or someone.
"Jack?" I tried to get his attention.
Jack looked back at me, his eyes wide.
"Are you okay?" Worry bled through my voice. I wanted to help him. I stood beside him and faced the ocean but nothing was there.
"You see that?" He turned and asked, his arm pointing to spot I had already inspected.
I was confused about what he was referring to. There was nothing there but the beach and endless waves rolling in. "See what?"
Jack's voice sounded distant. "He was just standing there . . . in the water. A man." He turned back to me with a desperate look, wanting confirmation. He was adamant someone was there. His voice and face told me he needed me to see it.
I was afraid he was hallucinating with his exhaustion and pallor. I couldn't feed into the illusion. "Jack. . ." I said gently.
He looked distressed. He obviously had seen something. "You didn't see him?"
I put my hand on his arm and spoke to him tenderly. "When was the last time you slept?"
Jack looked rattled and white under his tan. He picked up the mirror. He wasn't in the mood to be taken care of. I heard a saying that doctors make the worst patients. "I have to put this with the rest of the gear."
He walked off and I watched him go. I crossed my arms, concerned about how hard he was pushing himself. He took care of everyone else except himself. Nobody else looked after him or worried that I knew of. I bit my thumb pad, thinking about him.
He didn't bother to rest after rescuing Boone and the attempt to save Joanne. He just threw his shirt on. He didn't look like he slept last night and was off to do something else.
We didn't get much sleep collectively the other night either with the boar feasting in the fuselage.
The night before that, he stayed up all night burying the marshal and then sitting on the beach.
Nobody can keep up this inhuman pace without sleep, not even Jack.
I sat, helping some volunteers sort clothes. We all sat apart in the same general area. I had a pile of suitcases to go through. The majority of luggage was unclaimed and the survivors, including me, needed more than the clothes on our backs.
Only a few people found their own cases. The rest are in the ocean or around the island. It wasn't worth the search.
"You haven't found a hair brush, have you?" I looked up and smiled. It was Claire. She looked like a petite, blonde doll with beautiful hair that rippled in waves. I thought she was adorable.
She also had a round belly, almost too big for her tiny body. Her baby was due in in another 5 weeks or so according to Jack. She had been looking through suitcases on her own several yards away.
I had been getting to know people slowly outside of the few that I had been going on treks with. She seemed so sweet and easy going but shy. Claire didn't talk to many people besides Charlie, who approached her periodically.
She looked young, maybe in early 20s at the most. It had to be overwhelming for her in her condition. I know with my pregnancy scare I melted down but it was for different reasons. I could have been in her shoes during the crash. I have no doubt the marshal would have dragged me back even if I was on the verge of giving birth.
I made a conscious choice to focus on her as a person in the moment, not the baby unless she wanted to talk about it. She probably had enough on her mind with distinct possibility of giving birth here of all places.
"Nope. Sorry." I told her. She was right about hairbrushes but I was slightly amused, wondering if it was her real reason for approaching me.
"I must've looked in twenty suitcases today and I can't find one. Weird. You'd think everyone packs a . . ."
Her eyes got wide with a blank look. She was getting ready to sit next to the case I was emptying and started to fall. I was already on my feet and steadying her. "Whoa. Are you okay?"
Claire nodded. "Yeah it's just the heat." She smiled wryly. "Oh. And I'm pregnant." She smiled. She had deep dimples that accompanied the Australian accent I had grown to love while living there.
"Really?" I grinned back and raised my brows as if this was revelatory information. I had dimples too and probably didn't smile enough to show them. I didn't smile a lot. Every day was filled with stress and yet another crisis or mission. It was easy with her, though. I put another piece of clothing in a pile and turned back to her, still smiling.
Claire grinned back and laughed. I liked her already. I offered her a large, half-filled bottle of water. "Thanks." She said.
She took it and immediately starting drinking while turning to face me and my busy work. I continued to sort. She was perched on a rock ledge next to the suitcase in a black tank top and black jersey skirt watching me, her small fingers tracing the edge of the case. Her gaze was curious and friendly. "What are you doing?" She asked.
"Wanna help? You can help me sort the 'practical clothes' from the 'impractical clothes.'" It would keep her off of her feet and keep her mind occupied. I found staying busy helped me not to dwell on our overall situation.
"How can you tell the difference?" She asked, her eyes wide.
I held up a pair of jeans. "Practical." I put them in a pile to my left. Then I held up an oversized, tacky, satin negligee with a flourish. "Impractical."
Claire giggled. She slowly started to sort some clothes and saw a sun hat. She put it on and glanced at me. I could feel her gaze but continued to sort.
"Can I ask you something personal? I don't mean to get personal, but I'm curious." Her question was innocent and unassuming.
I stiffened slightly, then stopped when I looked up into her eyes. They were the palest blue I've ever seen with dramatic, dark rings around the irises, transparent and lacking guile.
I found myself unable to say no to her. I don't usually share personal information.
"Sure. Shoot." I answered.
"Are you a Gemini?" She asked.
I smiled at her then laughed genuinely. "Yeah, I am." She seemed delighted and grinned. Instead of clapping, she slapped the case during a 'I knew it' moment. I was surprised and she noticed and thought about me enough to figure that out.
"I thought so. Restless. Passionate. Thoughtful. You know everyone thinks Astrology is a load of crap, but that's because they don't get it. I could do your chart if you want it."
I glanced at her. As much as I want to hear about a rosy future, I don't want to chance any unpleasant surprises to come out if "it isn't a load of crap" like she said.
She didn't lose her humor. "Or not." She said, her eyes growing comically wide as she continued to sort. Claire looked at me, then shook her head. "Geminis." She said under her breath, making a face. We both laughed.
It was easy talking to Claire. I felt something there, the budding bond of friendship. The feeling seemed mutual. I haven't had luck in the female friend department growing up, but she was different than other people.
Claire was a ray of sunshine. It was warm and pleasant to have her for company. I was pleased she felt comfortable enough to approach me and sit, whether she helped out or not.
We continued to sort and talk some with her carrying on most of the conversation. She was charming and funny. I marveled at how good natured she was despite our overall situation.
Our conversation made time pass quickly.
Later that afternoon, Walt, Michael's ten-year-old son, came running down the beach at full speed. He ran up towards me. "HEY! HEY!" He looked frantic.
I was concerned and immediately ran to him. "What's wrong?"
"That pregnant lady fell down!" He was out of breath.
I saw where he was pointing and took off.
Charlie and Michael joined me quickly as word spread. I was checking Claire's pulse. She had fainted. Her skin was flushed and felt warm like she had a fever. We needed to get her out of the sunlight.
I had no idea where Jack was.
I asked them to gently pick her up and put her in the infirmary tent so we could care for her. They put her gently on a bed of seat cushions. She was probably dehydrated. She not only was eating but drinking for two.
We all started to talk in the tent. "I was with her before this. She got a little dizzy and the water helped earlier. I think it's the heat." I looked at her worried, as did Charlie and Michael.
"Where's the doctor?" Michael asked.
Charlie leaned over to listen to her. "She's breathing, I think."
I kneeled next to her to see if I could rouse her. "Claire? Can you hear me? Claire? Wake up." I stroked her hair and patted her cheeks gently, short of breath. I felt panic rising, which constricted my lungs. I didn't want anything to happen to her. "Claire, please wake up. Claire, honey, it's me. Come one."
To my relief, her eyes fluttered and opened. She looked around at me, then the men in confusion. Her lips were a little parched.
"What happened?" Her voice came out raspy and quiet.
"Claire, it's me, Kate. You passed out. Take it easy okay?" I felt her arm and forehead. Her skin was hot but strangely dry. I don't have medical training but normally people sweat when hot. It's the body's attempt to cool itself off. That might be a bad sign. I looked over at Charlie. "She needs water."
Charlie scrambled to get some. "Water. Yeah. There's some right. . ."
I held her hand. "You may have a fever. You feel really hot. I need you to stay still. I brushed her long hair back from her face and neck. "I need you to rest, okay?" Claire looked at me. She was slightly confused but I could tell she was starting to take my words in.
I was beyond worried about her and felt helpless. Was it exhaustion? Heat stroke? I would give anything for a pack of ice and gallon of water for her right then. I placed my hand on her stomach gently while talking. Her hand joined mine, side by side. The baby moved a few times. "The baby is okay. I need you to rest, Claire."
Charlie turned around to look where there used to be red case with water in it. I had seen Hurley and Charlie take it to the tent and talk to Jack earlier.
It was gone.
Charlie looked around. "What the...?!" He searched the tent frantically, pulling away various boxes, searching for that case or bottled water but came up with nothing.
He looked at me. "The water's gone." He was angry. "Somebody stole it!" I turned and looked at him. Claire looked confused at the commotion.
We had to have water for her and had no time to waste.
I spotted Sayid and called to him. We talked by the shore away from the others about the grave situation we were facing. I needed help. I couldn't just take off in the jungle to look without telling anyone like Jack. I was hoping maybe Locke or Sayid would know where to look, especially Locke.
Apparently, that suitcase was the last of the fresh water. We didn't have another source now. Nobody thought to locate one since the rain supplemented us, collecting in the clever tarp bins constructed by Sayid. It hadn't rained for days and they were bone dry.
"Where's the doctor?" Locke asked, his arms behind the back of his head, concentrating.
"I don't know. No one can find him." I answered.
"And this was the last of the camp's water supply?" Sayid asked.
"Yeah." I crossed my arms.
Sayid disapproved, shaking his head. "Keeping it all in one place. Foolish."
"I can go into the jungle. Maybe find some fresh water." I offered. There had to be sources out there. There was too much greenery on the island and animals. There had to be freshwater creeks or streams to sustain them.
Sayid disapproved vehemently. "You're not going alone."
Locke listened to us and spoke. "When the others find out we're out of water, it's gonna get ugly. And when they find out someone pinched it, it's gonna get uglier." Sayid and I looked at him and each other grimly. "I'll go." Locke offered. "Camp needs you two here. Especially with the doctor gone. Besides . . ." He gave us an odd, confident smile. "I know where to look."
Locke turned and left immediately. Sayid and I turned simultaneously and watched him stride off, grab his pack and head out.
Sayid and I were discussing the situation. I stayed within close proximity of the medical tent to keep an eye on Claire who was currently asleep.
Hurley soon ran to us with news. "The Chinese people have water." He was out of breath from hurrying. Sayid and I looked at each other.
Sayid took off first, his gait was tense. The heat and frustration were starting to get to us all in different ways. He and I needed to remain calm though to keep everyone else from panicking. I hurried to maintain the same pace with him.
I didn't want any conflict. I knew how the husband was. I saw how he talked to his wife. He was a muscular man with a temper. He kept her and himself separate from the camp whenever possible.
She didn't look happy about it. I caught her giving him unpleasant looks when his back was turned. I didn't need a translator to know what she was feeling.
Sun was standing at her shelter with an empty water bottle. Sayid calmly tried to ask her about it and was holding the empty bottle to help illustrate what he was looking for. "Where did you get this?"
He was trying to control himself but I think between the heat, thirst and potential of a witch hunt in camp, he was agitated.
Sun looked confused.
"WHERE. DID. YOU. GET. . ."
I cut him off quickly. "She doesn't understand you, Sayid. . ." I said firmly. I saw the look on her face.
Sayid disagreed. His dark eyes flashed when they looked into mine. "She understands me"
He turned back to Sun, continuing his interrogation in a lower tone, still unfriendly. "Did you steal this water?"
Sun looked nervous and around her quickly, probably for her husband. She spoke softly in Korean to us. We didn't understand what she was trying to say but it seemed to be an explanation. She didn't look puzzled when she answered.
Jin suddenly arrived, angry. His fists where clenched. He immediately stood in between Sayid and Sun in a protective stance and yelled at Sayid in Korean. I didn't like where this was headed. I clasped Jin's upper arm briefly with a gentle touch to get his attention. His muscles were bulging and I could tell he was ready to fight.
I stepped in between both men, gesturing with a palm up to each side to calm down. "Easy." I said to both men. "Let's just talk about this okay?"
Sayid stepped back. He glared at Jin. I know he was frustrated but brawling over a misunderstanding would solve nothing. We didn't know they took it. For all we know, she had it all along. I took the bottle away from Sayid.
I pointed to the bottle and asked Jin softly. "This had water in it. Is this yours?" My words were slow. I hoped he would understand. He looked at the bottle and up at Sayid. Both were staring at each other.
"Who gave you this?" I asked. He continued to glare at Sayid, but his eyes lit up at the word "Who." He must have understood that single word. Jin pointed down the beach. He was defiant but not hostile towards me.
Sayid and I looked where he was pointing. Jin did too when Sayid broke his gaze. Sawyer sat by himself smoking a cigarette, not paying any attention to us since we were looking at his profile.
"Son of a . . ." I was angry and started to take off towards Sawyer, cutting between Jin and Sayid. If Sawyer snatched all those bottles to hoard and trade while Claire and the baby suffered, I was going to personally rip his head off.
Sayid grabbed my arm. "Kate, I don't see the water." He whispered.
"And?" I glared at Sawyer. If he was hoarding it so help me God . . . I was breathing hard, my adrenaline kicking in.
Sayid continued, his grip firm on my arm to keep me from charging towards him. "You go after him now, he'll give you nothing. But if you wait, a rat will always lead you to its hole."
I relaxed and he released his grip. Sayid took off the opposite direction, no doubt to watch Sawyer from a vantage point. The Korean couple had already turned away to talk quietly behind me.
I wasn't happy about it but he was right. Now we had to wait. I just didn't know how much longer Claire and the baby could hold out.
I hoped Sawyer got off his ass and went to his hoard sooner than later.
I turned away to find something to do so I could covertly wait.
Sayid and I watched Sawyer from two different points in camp, appearing busy. I checked on Claire periodically, passing him without looking.
Claire was thirsty, her lips parched. Charlie had found a half cup of water for her. She slept and was only slightly cooler. She still felt warm to me. The baby was still moving. She asked me about Jack. I reassured her he was coming back but needed to do something. In the meantime, Locke was out finding water.
I told her I had no doubt about Locke's abilities and to not worry. She seemed only slightly reassured. I bit my bottom lip and did what I could to make her comfortable. I lifted her hair off of her neck to cool her a bit and asked if I could do anything else for her. She said no thank you and drifted off to sleep again.
Sayid sifted through parts of wreckage and wiring to be used later still. I went back to my things.
We stayed within eye line to signal when it was time, our plan already set.
Sawyer slipped away in the later afternoon into the tree line and beyond. Sayid signaled to me. I followed after Sawyer and Sayid would follow in parallel.
Sawyer was easy to track with his big feet. He left a trail of broken branches and leaves from pushing aside the dense foliage.
Finally, he made it to an area among a lot of grass and plants and looked around. I was out of sight. He knelt down, looked around, then pushed aside a lot of dead leaves and debris.
Three suitcases appeared. He opened them and I saw some items inside including suntan lotion, cigarettes, candy, medication, alcohol and more.
He was completely unaware of my presence or Sayid as he circled on the other side.
I rushed Sawyer as hard and fast as I could. I knocked him off his feet in a full-out tackle any linebacker would have been proud of. Once on the ground, I pinning his shoulders with my knees. My purpose was to temporarily immobilize him and get him away from the stash.
Sayid was going to do this but I said no. Blood would be drawn between them before it was over. My gut said Sawyer wouldn't hurt me, even if I hurt him or just pissed him off.
Sawyer, of course, took the tackle as something else. He went from a look of shocked outrage to a wide grin in seconds. "It's about time." He said, pleasure in his voice, even though he was face up in the dirt thanks to a woman almost half his size.
"About time for what?" I asked him fiercely.
"I made this birthday wish four years ago." He was enjoying himself. God, only he could turn this into something sordid. My eyes burned with rage.
Sayid emerged from the jungle on the other side. "Does he have it?"
Sawyer's face changed immediately into a scowl after surprise flitted across his face. "What? You two followed me out here? I wanna see a warrant!"
"Where's the water?!" I demanded.
In a flash move, Sawyer pushed up, twisted, then rolled over pinning me to the ground while laying on top of me. He grinned, breathing hard. "That's better." I felt disgusted, my anger was boiling over.
Sayid grabbed Sawyer by the back of his shirt and pants. He pulling him off of me then pushed him hard, causing him to stumble and end up yards from the stash. Sayid stood between us. I got to my feet and brushed myself off, fed up with Sawyer's cutesy bullshit.
"GIVE US THE WATER NOW!" Sayid was enraged.
"Touch me again." Sawyer dared him, circling and pointing.
I went over to the suitcases and pulled each one of them open. Sawyer's attention was diverted but he didn't stop me. There was more of the same of what I saw before including electronic equipment but no water.
"Do you really think I stole your damn water?" Sawyer asked apparent disbelief. He calmed down more quickly than anticipated after I closed the cases. I left the rest of his collection untouched.
I had finished searching and looked at Sayid. "It's not here."
Sayid continued his rigid stance, staring Sawyer down without blinking. "We know you gave two bottles to the Korean couple."
Sawyer took a step forward and got in Sayid's face. "I don't give nothin' to nobody. I traded Mr. Miyagi the last water I had for a fish he caught. We worked it out caveman-style."
I joined the two of them. I was skeptical he would do that. "You gave up your last two bottles of water?"
He turned to me. "Water ain't got no value, Freckles. It's gonna rain sooner or later." He looked at me and gestured with his hands. "And hell! I'm an optimist." He walked past Sayid, then paused longer to look at me before returning to his treasure.
Sayid and I looked at each other. Despite Sawyer's behavior, I believed he was telling the truth. I shook my head.
"Come on. Let's go." Sayid said. He led the way out. We were back to square one.
"Hey, Freckles! You forgot somethin'!" I turned as Sawyer tossed me a large leather wallet. I was confused until I opened it. It was a flip wallet. Inside was the marshal's badge. I looked at it, thinking, then stared at Sawyer.
"Seeing as you're the sheriff now, might as well make it official." Sawyer tried to smirk but obviously was rankled by the encounter.
I closed the wallet, it but didn't give it back. Of all the things he could have given me . . .
I put it in my pocket and headed back to the beach.
Sayid and I debated on where to look next. Night fell fast after we left Sawyer behind with his stash. He was sitting comfortably now drinking airline booze and eating something. Everyone was abuzz with the lack of water. The whole camp knew.
Locke wasn't back and Jack was still missing.
Chaos started to erupt near the medical tent. Chaos was not a new phenomenon unfortunately. Sayid and I made a run for the shouting voices.
Several survivors were outside of it including Michael, Walt, Sun, Jin, and Charlie. Shannon was joining the group. In the center of the chaos, surrounded by the angry group, was a panicked Boone. Charlie's voice was the loudest of all, accusing him.
"What's going on?" I asked loudly, drowning out the voices. Sayid was next to me. Shannon looked confused, standing off to the side.
Sawyer had been watching them from nearby. He nodded at Boone. "Guess they got your thief."
Boone pleaded to me, maybe hoping I'd understood. "I was trying to help! Someone needed to take responsibility. It never would have lasted unless. . ."
"OH, SHUT IT!" Charlie yelled. He took a swing and Boone ended up flying into the sand. He roughly picked him back up. People were angry and frustrated. Maybe it was the lack of water or the fact we had been stuck six days on hell island. Whatever it was, we needed to quell it fast.
I grabbed Sayid by the upper arm to enlist his help. Regardless of Boone's mistake, the group had quickly turning into an out of control mob. Nobody else was making moves to interfere. Sayid stepped forward and pushed Charlie back several yards, getting in between the men. I stood in front of Boone.
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" A voice boomed from behind us. I turned to the sound of that familiar, powerful voice. Relief flooded through me. Silence fell instantly as all eyes turned to him.
Jack looked rough, dirty and scratched up. He was still unshaven and exhausted, but he had a fire in his eyes, driven with new purpose. Everybody watched him as he stood on the fallen wing of the plane looking over us. He paused, making sure he had everyone's attention.
"It's been six days and we're all still waiting. Still waiting for them to come." He looked at everyone. "But what if they don't?" Jack stepped down and started walking, looking each person he passed in the face. He was charismatic and fearless, engaging everyone around him.
"We have to stop waiting. We need to start figuring things out. A woman died today because she went for a morning swim." He then pointed to Boone. "He tried to save her life and now you're about to crucify him because he took some water?" Everyone looked at Boone. Charlie dropped his eyes in shame.
He continued with his voice carrying, taking root into the consciences of those listening. People backed off making a circle around him. "We can't do this. We can't just hope it'll figure itself out. It's time to start organizing. We need to figure out how we're going to survive because 'every man for himself' isn't gonna work anymore, people." Jack paced as he talked, still making eye contact with people.
"I found fresh water in the valley. I'll take a group in at first light. You don't want to come? Then find a way to contribute! Last week, most of us were strangers. But now we're all here. And God knows how long we're gonna be here, but . . ." He paused and scanned our faces. "If we can't live together. . .we're gonna die alone."
His words resonated like an echo as his speech ended. I got chills and wondered what happened to change him that day. What finally inspired him to take on the mantle of leadership? He had avoided making decisions and was irritated with people asking for advice up that very morning.
Jack and I exchanged meaningful glances. I understood. I supported everything he said. I tried to convey that to him without words.
Jack had not just returned from his journey.
The camp leader had finally emerged.
Jack sat next to the small fire, close to the ocean. Everyone had settled down. The remaining water was distributed evenly with empty bottles piled and ready for the next morning's trip.
I had checked on Claire. She drank the water Charlie gave her and went back to sleep. Her fever was gone. When I checked on the baby, my hand on her belly, I received a strong kick. It was reassuring.
I made my way to Jack quickly afterwards, my final destination. I took him a cup of water in a bottle cut in half that served as a cup.
I squatted and smiled broadly, looking into his eyes as I handed it over. He looked into mine and returned the look. "Thanks."
We sat, taking in the night air and ocean together. I sat closely to him, the knee opposite of him up with my elbow on it. I looked at the fire and tipped my head towards him. "So, where were you today, Jack?" I asked. I was curious. He looked like he had been dragged through the dry dirt.
He looked over at me. "Just taking care of some things."
I looked down into the fire and smiled. I knew he still was looking at me.
I understood without him saying more, but couldn't resist teasing the man who required details. "That's all I'm gonna get, huh?"
Jack sat quietly a few moments. "My father died. In Sydney."
I wasn't expecting that. I faced him, the smile instantly wiped off my face. Jack's sorrow surfaced and was palpable. His eyes welled up. Mine did in response. "I'm sorry." It came out so quietly that the waves almost drowned out my response.
Jack nodded. He looking at the water, then looked into my eyes with a sad smile. It faded when he turned away.
"Yeah. I'm sorry, too." He said quietly. I watched him for several seconds and looked down, then out at the white caps where his gaze fell.
We sat there quietly, as the waves rolled in, pounding the shoreline mercilessly. The backwash dragged the water back in along with sand and anything else it could grab.
After his confession, we remained quiet. Simplicity and peace washed over us, carrying away the tension of the day.
We watching the perpetual ebb and flow of the ocean, side by side.
For now, nothing else needed to be said.