I'm back! Sorry for the looong hiatus, but I hate writing while the show is on. But now that it's off for a bit, I know we all need a fix. So here is just a running version of the rest of Season Three, told as I would tell it. A little bit of everything. Enjoy!
Pickett cocked the gun, and Kate bit back a scream. She clutched the walkie talkie a little tighter, the hard plastic digging into her palms. This, at least, was real.
"All right, Jack," she said, and the frantic screaming was gone. It was a harsh whisper, barely audible in the pounding rain. She could imagine him hearing it, his face relaxing just the slightest bit, eyes closed. She wondered where he was, why he was able to call shots.
She stood up straight, let go of the bars, turned around. "Give me your gun," she said to the man at her back.
"Don't move!" Pickett screamed.
"Kate!" Sawyer echoed, and she knew the other man now had his gun trained on her back. She didn't care. Better aimed at her than at his head again.
"Give me the gun," she said. The man's eyes darted behind her. Kate drew a deep breath. For God's sake, she thought. Sawyer, don't do anything stupid. She had this under control. But there was no sound of a scuffle, and the man handed over the gun. She held it loosely in her left hand, tucked it into her pocket.
"Dammit!" Pickett yelled. "What the hell are you doing?"
And now there was the sound of a scuffle. Kate ran out of the cage, not stopping long enough to let the man at her back touch her. As she rounded the door, she saw Pickett and Sawyer, caught in a desperate wrestling match. The gun was pointed to some undisclosed location in the sky.
"Let him go!" she yelled. She whipped out, not the gun, but the walkie talkie. "If you want Ben to live, let him go!"
Pickett glared at her. She shivered a little under that murderous gaze. Was that what Sawyer had been dealing with for these past days? That look of complete and utter hatred? He scowled at her, slowly released his hold. The gun fell to the ground. Sawyer took a step back.
"Let's go," Kate hissed. She held out a hand. Sawyer bent down, slowly, and retrieved the gun. Standing up, he wrenched his hand back, and hit Pickett hard with the butt of the pistol. The Other fell to the ground, hard, a thin line of blood oozing out of his head. She knew she shouldn't, but Kate felt glad, glad that he had given that bastard a little taste of the pain he'd been inflicting on them.
"That's enough," she barked. "Sawyer, come on. Let's go."
"Coming, sweetheart," he said, and with one hard kick in the unconscious man's stomach, he followed her.
They didn't run quickly. The rain made the ground slippery, and rocks and tree roots jutted out at uneven intervals. And besides, they were tired, injured, hungry. They'd been surviving for almost a week now on fish biscuits and two hours of sleep. Kate fell twice, and each time she felt Sawyer's hand on her elbow, urging her to her feet.
Finally, after they'd been running for what had to be almost an hour, Sawyer told her to stop. Or rather, he asked her, begged almost. She turned around, shocked at what she saw.
He was pale, haggard. His shirt hung from him in tattered, wet shreds. Blood was crusted all over his body, staining it a dull, rusty brown. His chest heaved, in and out. She walked over to him, placed a hand on his chest.
"You know where we're goin, Freckles?" he asked, and even his voice sounded weaker. She let out a breath. Truth was, she didn't know. Trust was, she never did. When she ran, that was all she did. Until she ended up somewhere, and started to put the pieces of her life back together. "You gonna radio the doc?" he asked, when she proceeded not to answer. Kate choked back a laugh.
"He said to call when we're safe," she said. "Do you really think we're safe?"
His arms wrapped around her, squeezed her tight. She held him back. He acted strong, but sometimes she thought that he needed her touch as much as she needed his. Just to feel something else warm and alive. It was still raining.
"We've got to go back," he said finally. Kate twisted in his arms, moved her head to stare up at the dark stubble of his chin.
"What?" she asked, surprised. It had taken everything she had to leave. Did he know that? Did he know that the only way she'd been able to leave Jack was knowing that it would save Sawyer? His jaw tightened.
"If we're gonna get off this rock, we'll need a boat," he said. "Far as I know, those bastards are the only ones that got one. And besides. . ." he chuckled a little, a lonely sound drawing up from the back of his throat. "I'd kinda like to get the doc out."
Kate smiled, planted a soft kiss on the underside of his jaw.
"Okay," she said. She pulled out the walkie talkie and switched it on.
"It's been an awful long time since they all headed out into the jungle," Rose remarked. She picked up some cans that Charlie had brought over and carefully arranged them on her makeshift shelves.
"I'm sure they're fine," Bernard said reassuringly. Rose smiled at her husband where he was seated on the sand, leaning up against a tree. Clasped tightly in his arms was the one-month old Aaron. Bernard was making strange faces at the baby, puckering up his lips and blowing out his cheeks. The baby smiled and waved its chubby little fists around in the air.
"I sure hope so," Rose said. She brushed her hands together and took a step back from the shelves, admiring her handiwork. A brief spasm of pain washed across her chest. She resisted the urge to bring her hand up.
They'd been becoming more constant lately. She wished that the doctor would come back soon. She was nearly sure that she knew what he'd say, but still. She wanted to make sure.
"Hey there, Rose, Bernard," Charlie said, smiling his regular, doofy smile. Rose always had to smile back when she saw him like that. He was a troubled child, no doubt about it, but he had a good soul. She could see that in him.
"Why, hello, Charles," she said. "How are you today?"
"I'm doing alright," Charlie said. He stuck his hands deep in the back pocket of his jeans, leaned back against his heels. "I was just wondering if anyone's seen John lately. Or Desmond."
"Not since they went into the jungle," Rose said. Bernard took that moment to blow a particularly loud raspberry. Charlie nodded his head, looking a bit crestfallen. "I'm sorry we can't help more, hon."
"No, no, it's okay," Charlie said. He strolled over to Bernard. "Hey there, if you need, I can take him for a bit."
"That's all right," Bernard said with that beautiful lopsided smile of his. "Aaron and I are getting on just fine. Aren't we, baby? Aren't we?" And he went into another spasm of bizarre facial contortions. Charlie shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, just let me know if you see them," he said, and began wandering off along the beach. Rose smiled again, but the bright cheer of her face was soon wiped away as another rocket of pain blew through her chest.
Where was Jack?