Chapter One

The Day Flight 815 Went Down

My eyes shot open, and I realized I was staring up at the open blue sky. But I should've been looking at the inside of an airplane. I turned my head, and saw a large mountain, covered in lush green plant life, off in the distance. I knew something was wrong, but I was so dazed I couldn't think straight. I pulled my hand up to rub my eyes, and when I pulled away, I noticed the blood on my palm. Then I began to feel a stinging pain in my side, where my hand had just been. With some effort, I pulled myself up, using the sand beneath me as a support. I looked to my side, to see a large blood stain was seeping over my shirt. That was when my senses returned, and I heard the screaming. From all around me, people were screaming or moaning. There was a woman shrieking something I couldn't understand. I turned my head around, and was taken aback with what I saw. Gigantic hunks of metal were strewn across the sand, fires raging on many of them. A smallish chunk near me read 'Oceanic 815'; the plane I had been on. People were slowly limping about, most injured in some way. They were grouping together, trying to find their loved ones. That's when I realized I was missing someone too.

"Meredith!" I called out, but my voice was hoarse. "Meredith, where are you?" I scanned the area, but I couldn't find her. I tried to stand, and did so, but it took a lot out of me. I needed to catch my breath for a minute, then began limping around. Now I could take in the full front of the devastation before me. Many people lied dead, and even more were seriously injured. I watched a man in a suit pull another man out from under some wreckage, to find that part of the second man's leg was missing. An African American man was running around, looking for someone. A blonde twenty-something girl was standing in one spot, shrieking. An Asian man was screaming in another language, maybe Korean. And then I saw Meredith. She was curled in a tight ball, near some wreckage that was on fire. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and she clutched herself tightly. I moved as fast as I could, trying not to get in anyone else's way. I got to her, and knelt down.

"Gavin!" she shouted, above the noise that was coming from the plane's still-running motor. "Gavin what's going on?" I looked around.

"The… the plane," I managed. "It crashed. We're on an island. But we're going to be alright. Just come with me." I held out a hand, just in time to hear a voice come from behind me.

"Get away from there!" someone shouted. I spun my head, just in time to see a plump man get sucked into the plane's motor. He hit the spinning blades, and the entire thing blew up, sending several people to the ground. I used my body to cover Meredith's, but the only thing that reached us was the heat from the flames, no flying rubble. When I checked again to make sure no more explosions were going to happen, I helped Meredith to her feat. She was limping worse than me, so I told her to put an arm around my shoulders. We began walking to a safer distance. Just then a boy, early twenties, ran up to us.

"Do either of you have a pen?" he asked frantically. I barely managed an "umm…" before he ran off. What was all that about? Suddenly I noticed something in my peripheral vision. The wing of the plane, which was suspended up into the air, was slowly tilting downwards.

"Crap," I managed to say. Then the wing fell, and yet another explosion followed it. Both Meredith and I were knocked to our stomachs on the sand. There was a sudden absence of noise, as if the entire thing was finally over. The whole ordeal, done with. But I knew things were far from over.

XxXxX

Things eventually did settle down. What was left of the plane was all in safe areas, no longer precariously perched in ways that could cause more damage. The only fires still burning were small enough to keep maintained and provided warmth. The survivors (I counted somewhere between 40 and 50) were either milling about, trying to find their luggage, or sitting down, lost in thought. I was one of the latter, and Meredith and I sat down near the shore, gazing out into the ocean. We had both recovered some in the past hour, but it still hurt to move around too much. After a while of silence, I spoke up.

"When do you think mom will hear about this," I asked quietly. "When do you think she'll…" Meredith cut me off.

"Come on, Gav," she said resting a head on my shoulder. "Mom will be okay. The search party's probably already on the way. We'll be home in no time." I sighed heavily, and continued staring out at the waves rolling in. They were nice, full waves, good for surfing. Back home, in Los Angeles, I would probably have surfed any waves even close to these ones. But I wasn't back home. I was on some god damned island. Just as I was thinking about these things, a man walked up to us. He was bald, wearing khaki pants and a plaid shirt. He had a scar over his eye, and I wondered if he'd gotten it from the crash.

"Hello there," he said to us, not sitting down yet. I waved to him. "Mind if I join you?" I looked to Meredith, who shrugged. I shook my head, signifying that I had no qualms about it, and he sat down next to Meredith and me. "My name's John. John Locke." He extended a hand, which I tentatively shook.

"I'm Gavin Berkely," I said weakly, still not having a whole lot of energy. "And this is my sister, Meredith." I nodded in Meredith's direction.

"Nice to meet you both," said John Locke. He turned his head to look at the ocean, as I had been doing previously. "So, what were you two doing in Sydney?" Did I really want to answer that? It was personal, and I don't think Meredith would want me to answer either. This man, Locke, seemed to sense my hesitance. "You don't need to answer, it's fine. Me, I was going to go on a walkabout."

"A what?" asked Meredith. John smiled.

"It's a… a sort of journey. Into the Australian outback. I wouldn't have expected you kids to have known what it was. How old are you two, anyway?"

"I'm sixteen," I said. "Meredith's fifteen, well, until December that is." Locke nodded, and reclined slightly in the sand. "Uh… Mr. Locke?"

"Please, just call me John," he said. "Or Locke, whichever you prefer. And, yes, what is it?"
"When people… survive things like this…" I said. "They get rescued usually, right?" Locke sighed.

"I hope so, Gavin," he said after a moment. "For all of us, I sincerely hope so." Just then, another man walked up to us.

"What're your names?" he asked us. He had shaggy hair, and a thin beard. His skin was dark, and he had a Middle Eastern accent. We exchanged looks.

"My name is John Locke," John offered. "These two kids are Gavin and Meredith Berkely." The Middle Eastern man nodded.

"Well, John Locke, Gavin and Meredith Berkely," he said. "We need help with the signal fires. We need planes passing overhead to see it, and it won't be visible without more firewood. Come on." John got to his feet, and offered me a hand. I grasped it, and he helped me up. His hand was warm, but rough, like it had calluses on it. Meredith grabbed my other hand.

"No, stay here," I said. Before she could protest, I continued. "You're hurt a lot worse than I am. I don't want you walking around the jungle with a wound like that open. There's probably someone around here who can fix you up. Go ask around. I'll be fine." She looked like she wanted to complain, but was too tired, and eventually nodded. I turned to look at the dark skinned man. "We told you our names, what's yours?"

"My name is Sayid Jarrah," he said simply. Sayid, Locke and I began walking away from Meredith, towards the jungle. "You are a good brother, Gavin." He added. I smiled slightly at the compliment. But I knew inside I was anything from a good brother. The three of us headed for the thick looking trees. We passed by two more people, whom IU recognized. The blonde girl was the one who was screaming, and the boy was the one who'd asked me for a pen earlier.

"Hey you two," called Locke. "Do you want to help us gather some wood for a signal fire?" The boy and the girl looked at each other. I saw the girl mouth 'not a chance,' but the boy stood up.

"Yeah, sure," he said, walking over to us. "I'll come with." We continued walking for a moment, and when we were out of the girl's earshot, the boy spoke again. "Hey, don't let Shannon get on your nerves. She can be kind of… well… You get it."

"Not to worry," said Locke, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. I barely knew this bald man, but I could tell he was an inherently friendly person. "My name's John Locke. This is Sayid Jarrah, and Gavin Berkely."

"I'm Boone," the boy said. "Boone Carlisle. Shannon's my sister." There wasn't really anywhere to go from there, so we continued in silence until we got to the jungle.

"We'll get more wood if we split up," suggested Sayid. "Mr. Locke, why don't we go to the west, and these two go to the east?" Locke nodded in acceptance, and the older two of the four of us went their own way.

"Come on, Boone," I said, as I started walking the opposite direction. "That firewood's not going to find itself, you know." Boone chuckled, and took a few bounding steps to catch up with me. "So… if we're being honest," I said, bending down to pick up some wood that looked thick and dry enough. "How long do you think we'll be here?" Boone grabbed his own piece of wood, and contemplated my question.

"Maybe a week?" he guessed. "Week and a half tops, I'd say. Planes don't just go missing. Someone's bound to be looking for us, maybe even on their way now. I have no idea." I shrugged, grabbing two more pieces of wood.

We continued on like that for a while, not talking a lot, just some idle chit chat. It started to get dark, so we decided it was a good idea to head back. We reached the beach, and found Sayid and Locke already back. Sayid walked up to us.

"Good job, boys," he said. "That is a perfect amount. Locke, if you would…" Locke smiled, and took the firewood from my arms. Sayid did the same for Boone, and they began throwing it onto an already burning fire. Locke turned back to the two of us.

"Your sisters were looking for you two," he informed us. Meredith was looking for me? Was she hurt? Oh no, if she was… I couldn't dwell on it. I thanked Locke, and said a quick farewell to my fellow survivors, before going off to find Meredith. I searched for a while, but couldn't find her. I started asking around.

"Excuse me?" I called, to a large man with a box in his hands. He had long hair, and was kind of sweaty. "Have you seen a girl, around my age? Five foot seven. Long blonde hair." The guy scratched his head for a minute.

"Um… oh!" he said, like he'd remembered. "Yeah, dude. She's over… there," he pointed, and when I squinted I could make out Meredith, sitting by a small fire, with an older man.

"Thanks," I said, going to the spot where the fat man had pointed.

"Sure dude," he said. I made my way over to the small fire. Meredith smiled when she saw me, and waved me over. I sat on the sand next to her, and she gestured to the man she was with.

"I took your advice, Gav," she said. "And I found a doctor. This is Jack." The man, Jack, extended a hand to me, which I shook. Meredith continued. "He stitched me up, look." She turned her back to me, and pulled up her shirt, revealing a red scar going down her back, with some black thread weaved in and out through it. I looked to Jack.

"Thank you," I said, grabbing his hand and shaking it again. "Thank you so much." Jack smiled.

"Don't mention it," he assured me. "I'm a surgeon. It's my job. But your sister told me you're kind of banged up too." I hadn't thought about it for a while, but now that someone mentioned it, the gash on my side started to sting again. I lifted up my shirt, revealing the deep cut on my side. Jack had already begun taking out a knitting needle and some thread. He produced a tiny bottle of alcohol, and uncorked it.

"I'll be honest," he said. "This isn't going to be fun." I gritted my teeth as he poured some of the alcohol into the open cut, making it sting like hell. The pain from that subsided soon enough, and I let out a breath. "We're not out of the woods yet," Jack reminded me. And with that, he began stitching me up. It hurt like… there's no way to describe it. I'd gotten stitches before, but the area was numb, and we were in a hospital. I just bit down hard, and squeezed my eyes shut. After what seemed like hours, it was over, and Jack patted me on the back.

"Thanks," I said, with a heavy breath. He nodded.

"We've got to do whatever we can to survive, right?" he said. I nodded.

"Yeah," I said. "Whatever we can to survive."

Flashback One

September Eighteenth, 2004

Gavin had gotten home from school early that day. His mother had called him out. The excuse was a doctor's appointment, but Gavin knew that wasn't the real reason. He got in his mother's car, and they quickly drove away from the school.

"How was your day, honey?" asked his mom, sounding distracted. Gavin shrugged.

"Fine, I guess," he said, pulling an apple out of his bag and taking a bite of it. "How was yours?" His mom didn't answer, just kept her eyes focused on the road. "Um… mom? You okay?" She sighed heavily.

"I'll tell you when we get home, okay?" Gavin nodded, but didn't stop wondering what was on his mother's mind. The whole ride home (which wasn't that long, really) he pondered what it could be. Had he gotten a bad grade on that midterm? Was she getting laid off? There were a large amount of possibilities, but none of them were the actual reason for his mother's strange behavior.

They arrived at the house. It was a nice enough place, not extravagant, but it was enough. It was right on the beach, which Gavin had always thought of as a blessing. Immediate access to the waves was just about the only thing he could've ever asked for. They walked into the house, and were greeted with the wet, rough tongue of a beagle.

"Easy, Dingo," Gavin said, petting the excited dog. "It's just me. I'm home early." The dog, Dingo, wagged his tail with joy at Gavin's early return. Gavin picked up a tennis ball the dog had dropped at his feet, and tossed it down the hallway. Dingo chased after it, and Gavin's mother walked into the kitchen. Gavin followed, and sat at the table with her. "Come on, mom. What's up?" She sighed heavily.

"I got a call," she said at last. "You know my friend in Sydney. Carol?" Gavin nodded. "She managed to get in touch… with Meredith." Gavin's eyes shot wide open.

"What?" he asked, not believing what he was hearing. "Are you serious, mom? You know where Meredith is?" She held a hand to her mouth, something she always did when she was sad.

"Your father…" she said slowly. "Your father kicked her out. About two days ago. She went and found Carol. She told her that she didn't want to see me. But… I had an idea…"

"What is it, mom?" asked Gavin, determined to get his sister back.

"If… Well, what if you go and get her in Australia?" Gavin's eyes widened again, shocked at what he was hearing. His mother explained. "She's still terribly mad at me, and I agree with her. But she's not mad at you. If you can get her, and Carol brings her to the airport, she'll come back home." She took Gavin's hands in her own. "Please, Gavin. Bring your sister home."