"I'm not doing it, Sayid." There wasn't a lot to be gained from disagreeing with the Iraqi, Sawyer knew, and he half suspected he'd wind up doing the work anyway, but he couldn't just let this lie. "You dig as many graves as you want, but I don't think they deserve a burial. Go find Hugo. Maybe he'll help you."
Sayid's eyes narrowed, but other than that, Sawyer saw no change of expression, only steely impassivity. However, the shorter man did move to set the shovel against the front grille of the van, as if he suspected that convincing Sawyer to start working might take a while. "Hurley is watching Juliet, and I won't ask him away from that. Jin is readying a makeshift dock for the rescue ship. Bernard is standing guard. Exactly whom do you propose I ask for help with this, besides yourself?"
There didn't sound like many other options. Sawyer figured that Sayid must have already considered all of them before asking him, anyway. Even the dentist was a better choice. At least he might have done the work without an argument.
"Well, look, chief," Sawyer drawled, "Tell you what: You dig the graves, and I'll stand here and watch, and make sure you're doing it correctly. If you do, you get a beer." He motioned to the six-pack that he'd found still left in the van. Of course he had checked for it, and he'd been pleased to find it.
Sayid's smile was flat and unamused. "I don't drink alcohol." He paused, looking like he was thinking about what had been said. Sawyer was surprised that he seemed to actually be considering the proposal. "Why do you want to avoid digging the graves, Sawyer?" The question sounded like he suspected other reasons besides the one Sawyer had already given.
"Like I said – I don't think they deserve to be buried."
"You would enjoy having multiple bodies scattered about the beach when the rescue ship arrives?"
"Who cares?" Sawyer shrugged his own lack of concern, and tipped the last of the second beer to his lips. "They're going to find them anyway." Finishing off the beer, he crumpled the can with one hand, and grabbed the shovel with the other. The sudden, vehement motion made Sayid take a careful step back, barely noticeable, and for some reason, Sawyer found that funny. It wasn't every day that the Iraqi flinched. "You want your graves dug, though? Let's go."
As he set off towards the sandy expanse where Sayid had already prepared several slightly shallow trenches over the last few hours, Sawyer glanced back at the soldier out of the corner of his eye. It took Sayid a few seconds to start walking towards the gravesite as well, and he looked a little stunned at Sawyer's sudden change of mind.
Digging a grave was hard work, and he had known it would be. He had dug Nikki and Paolo's graves, and that had taken him several hours and an uppercut to the face from Sun. That wasn't what bothered him about making a grave for the guy he'd shot, though. He was willing to do the work, but not for Tom. All the same, he didn't care to let Sayid know anything other than he had shot the man simply for taking Walt. That was the main reason. He hadn't lied. Nonetheless, being held prisoner at the Others' compound hadn't exactly made him feel any friendlier towards the guy.
He wished he had been the one to shoot that son of a bitch Pickett, too. A vague wave of anger at Juliet washed up over him about that. She'd taken away his opportunity to either kill or be killed by the man, and that still felt unresolved. It probably always would. Still, the more important guys – the real Mr. Sawyer, and the guy who had taken Walt – were taken care of, and that was what mattered.
Maybe he could dig a grave for Tom, then. It wouldn't be for Tom. It would be for completely finishing things here. He had to finish them before he stepped on that rescue boat, he knew. If digging this bastard's grave was what would do that, then he guessed he was willing to do that.
"Sawyer." Sayid's voice broke his concentration on the task at hand. He stopped digging and looked up from the pit. "We've received communication on the radio." That wasn't a good thing, he knew instantly. The Iraqi's voice was tense.
"We ain't being rescued, are we?"
Sayid fixed him with a dark, solemn look, and shook his head curtly. "That would not appear to be the case."
They had split up, and were moving as quickly as they could. The three other men had gone to ground somewhere in the jungle, but Sayid had informed him that they were going with Juliet to the radio tower. Sawyer wasn't sure that was the best idea, because the woman still put a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, but Sayid knew what he was doing, and Sawyer trusted the Iraqi's instincts when it came to situations like this more than anyone else on the island.
At least this way, if Juliet tried anything funny, they would be able to stop her, and if she had gone with the rest, they would not have been able to do so. They might even get the chance to ask her the questions both of them had been dying to ask since she had arrived on the beach.
He was wearing better shoes this time, too. When Locke dragged him through the jungle, he'd forgotten his shoes, and that had been a painful journey, and not just for philosophical reasons. Sneakers were easier to move around in than bare feet, and Sayid was clearing a decent path before them.
The only thing that sucked about this journey was the speed at which they were making it. The Iraqi was normally not given to idling around, but he was moving at a faster pace than Sawyer was generally able to keep. The trip was starting to be difficult, and when his legs would give out, he wondered if he would collapse. Still, if Sayid could do it, he could too. Hell, if Juliet could do it, he certainly could.
"How much further we got, anyway?" He hated the plaintive way that came out, like a kid halfway through a long car ride to Disneyworld. "And what did you hear this time on the radio?"
Sayid paused, and turned around, making Juliet stop short right in front of Sawyer. Sawyer almost walked into her, and wavered a little, trying to shake it off, feeling like an idiot. But if he noticed the near-miss, Sayid didn't comment on it. He also didn't answer the last question, but a quick look given Juliet told Sawyer why. "Another few hours." His eyes flicked over the pair quickly, and although Sawyer couldn't see sympathy in them, he at least sounded slightly concerned. "When we reach that clearing, we'll rest for a bit, though. Five minutes."
Why can't it be five hours? Feeling like a zombie, Sawyer followed the other two towards the clearing. Five minutes wouldn't be enough to even go to sleep, let alone catch some rest. There wasn't a river nearby, so he'd have to drink from the canteen that they had filled a few hours ago, sipping water that was already lukewarm. So much for rest and refreshment.
"Christ," he muttered, collapsing onto the grass and shutting his eyes, hoping the other two would stay shut up for at least the five minutes that he had been given. No such luck, though, because the blonde woman's voice hovered over him, annoyingly close. He didn't bother looking up, at first. He didn't really care what she had to say.
"So what are you and Sayid going to do when you reach the radio tower?" Juliet sounded genuinely interested, almost like the notion of finding out what was going on had perked her up.
Sawyer groaned, opening his eyes. "I dunno," he admitted, and then realized that he really didn't know. That was good, though. Considering the state he was in, he wasn't sure if he could have lied too convincingly. "Why do you care, Mata Hari? Whatever we do, you're gonna try to stop us."
She gave him a slight, pitying smile, but her eyes were cold, and Sawyer felt a chill run down his back. "You really don't trust me, do you? I don't see why you don't, because I've told you the truth every time you asked."
Sawyer would have appreciated a dry scoffing noise from Sayid at that comment, but none came. The Iraqi had already disappeared from the clearing, and he felt a little uneasy being alone near Juliet. Going back to the beach, he had been worried about her attacking him the entire way, and had been shocked when he'd made it to the camp in one piece.
Juliet was staring at him like she expected him to say something useful. After a moment, she seemed to realize that he had no response. "So why don't you trust me?" she pressed, sounding like she was trying to gain his sympathy.
He still couldn't fake giving a damn. "Why do you think? Now scram." Sawyer waved a hand in broad gesture, not caring if he was coming close to hitting her. "Leave me alone."
"Sure," Juliet said slowly. "Whatever you want." She offered him a smile, and it bothered him a little, but he managed to put on the fakest grin imaginable in response, knowing from the continued hostility on her face that she didn't buy it. Sawyer thought something in her voice sounded odd too, but he didn't pay attention to it. She spoke weirdly most of the time, so this was nothing new.