Island Orphan

Chapter 1

The crash itself wasn't so bad. I fell asleep peacefully long before anything went wrong with the plane, and I woke up, wet and sandy, with one of those yellow-elastic oxygen masks still hanging off my face. I didn't put it on myself. I was sore as hell, all over, but it was worst in two places. The bump already forming at the side of my head, and the places where my legs were darkening into a few big bruises. I was so relieved when I understood that those were my worst injuries, that my skin wasn't even broken anywhere and all my body parts functioned perfectly. I stood up with difficulty, sliding partly because of the hot sand that was everywhere and partly from the sudden dizziness that drenched me.

I stood, alone in the surf, for a moment, just breathing calmly. It took me a long time to notice the blue-spotted handbag sitting not two feet from me. My carry-on bag. I didn't realize how miraculous it was until a lot later, but I was happy to see it all the same.

"Are you alright?" a sweaty, wild-eyed man in a suit asked me, pausing before me though he looked as though he'd been running towards something specific. I looked in the direction he'd been heading. A blonde girl, quite young but certainly older than me, was crying out and clutching . . . her enormous, protruding stomach.

"Don't I look alright? Christ, go help the fucking pregnant chick!" I gasped hotly. He looked at me as though I'd been needlessly rude or something, before running off messily through the sand. True, it was probably strange and unpleasant for him to hear someone like me cursing like that. And he'd only been trying to help . . . I suddenly felt somewhat guilty, ashamed of my uncharacteristic outburst. I pivoted, looking for something helpful to do, maybe to make up for yelling at that guy.

The first person I came across was this gorgeous (in a slightly androgynous way) guy, boy, man, whatever, who seemed to be doing the same thing as me, running about and trying to help any way he could. I kept searching, disorganized and not feeling helpful at all. I couldn't find anybody that seemed to need help, but I kept walking, unable to just sit on my ass.

"Son of a bitch!"

I turned eagerly towards the man who'd cursed, but he was standing upright, seemingly as nearly-untouched as me. He'd only sworn because of the plane engine he'd just seen explode, sucking some random guy through it in its last seconds.

I couldn't help but stare, just a little. The 'son of a bitch' guy was fucking hot. I hated myself for being able to think something like that at a time like this, and tore my eyes away painfully. I was too late, though. He'd seen me looking.

"What're you staring at, girlie?" His voice sent shivers of pleasure down my spine, as it would never fail to do over the next several weeks, but more than that, it scared me. He intimidated me half to death.

"Nothing."

"If you wanted to thank me, you could just do it." He half-smiled, half-snarled.

"For what?" I asked, incredulous.

"I saved your life, not ten minutes ago." He seemed indignant.

"I don't . . ." suddenly, it clicked. This guy'd been sitting behind me on the plane, I had barely gotten a glimpse of his face. "You put the oxygen thing on me?"

"Sure did, freckles."

"What happened to 'girlie'?"

"I'm trying a few different ones out. We'll see which one sticks."

"Well, thanks for saving me. You could have just woken me up, I was only asleep." I didn't like the thought of his fingers all over me without my knowledge, for some reason.

That was my first conversation with Sawyer. I was the first person to talk to him on this island, and I'm glad that I got the chance before he decided he wanted everyone to hate him. It felt like a long time before I talked to him again.

An hour later, I was sitting on the beach with my head rested on my knees. I stared at the naturally strawberry-blonde (heavy on the strawberry, it was nearly red in certain lights) hair that fell there. The commotion had died down a lot, and nobody was in immediate danger anymore. Nobody had told me anything, but it wasn't as though I expected somebody to declare themselves mayor of us all and let me in on anything. Not that there was anything to be let in on, or anything.

Nobody seemed to notice me, sitting alone near the place where jungle met beach. They were all too immersed in their own trauma, at first. But then people began approaching me with troubled expressions that alternated into smiles.

The first was Hurley.

"Hello." He said, settling himself awkwardly on the sand beside me.

"Hey. I'm Cammy."

"Hurley."

"As in the brand name?"

"What?"

"Nevermind."

"So, uh, are you, like, here by yourself?"

"Yeah. I was visiting my big sister in Australia, my parents didn't come with this time."

"Well, I'm sure we'll be out of here and back in L.A. before we have time to miss civilization."

"You think?"

"Yeah. I sure hope so, anyway, it's my mom's birthday tomorrow."

"Bummer. At least you have a good excuse for missing it, if you do."

"Yeah. So, I spent the last half hour trying to find somebody to get some answers from, but then I realized, nobody has any."

"I know how you feel."

"I bet this is really traumatic for someone your age . . . "

"I'm alright, I think. Never really been a panicker, I'm the kind of person to stay on the sinking boat until it's at the bottom of the ocean and then freak out. Talk about broken coping skills, eh?"

"At least you're not the only kid on the island." Hurley said, seeming at a loss to reply more thoroughly.

"I'm not?"

He pointed across the beach to a young black boy who was running about with something long and red in his hand. A leash.

"You weren't kidding when you said kid, were you?"

"Well, how old are you, then?"

"I'm fifteen. He's what, nine?" I scowled a little.

"I didn't say you have to get married or anything." Hurley shrugged.

"Yeah. Sorry if I'm a little grumpy, a plane crash can do that to me."

"Ah, it's cool. We're all a little on edge. Listen, I'm gonna go look for my walkman some more. Just let me know if you need anything, alright?"

"Thanks, Hurley. I think I'll be fine." I smiled at him as he heaved to his feet and left.

The next was Charlie. He was a jittery guy, but really sweet and pretty funny. He told me the same as Hurley had, that I should just let him know if I needed anything.

Next was Kate. While she was a little less open and friendly, I immediately counted her as someone I could trust and count upon on this island.

Then Mr. Locke. He was sort of a strange man, lackadaisical about the whole situation. He didn't give me sympathy and worry like the others had, when I told him that I'd been alone on the plane. I liked that.

And then, Jack. The sweaty man in the suit, from the beach. At least he'd taken off that ridiculously inappropriate suit jacket by now.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that. You were just trying to help." I offered when he approached but didn't say anything.

"Of course, don't worry about it."

"So, can I help you with anything?" He was just staring at me with a funny look on his face.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay. I mean, you're alone here, and most of the adults are in shock right now."

"I'm fine. Thank you for your concern, though. What's your name?"

"I'm Jack. I'm a doctor, for future reference."

"Cammy. Why would I need to know that you're a doctor for future reference? We're going to get rescued any minute now, aren't we?"

"Probably, yeah."

"Well, I'll keep it in mind, anyway."

"Alright. And, Cammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry about a thing. We're all going to be fine." He was already about to leave again.

"Where are you going?"

"To see what I can do for the man with the shrapnel." He sighed, looking utterly frenzied, before jogging off down the beach.

This Jack seemed safe, just like Kate. I took his advice and didn't worry at all. This island was full of decent people who wouldn't let anything bad happen to me.

I rested my head sideways on my knees again, watching the sun begin to set. From this position I had a good view of the beach, with a lot of people to watch. I liked people-watching. The one that I kept the closest eye on was, strangely enough, was the person doing the least to entertain me. All he did was alternately sit and stand, chain-smoking and looking out at nothing.

When we heard the noise, I'd just remembered my bag and thought to open it and see the condition stuff was in. I had three books in there, and none of them were wet or even bent in the slightest. I delighted in the small blessing, though I'd finished two of them and one didn't interest me much at all. Still, I flipped through it absently, not getting immersed. And then there was the noise. It was like a couple hundred layers of sheet metal being torn apart while an army of bulldozers moved as a pack. The noise came in a few short bursts before it was joined by a long wail, like a whale's song but much higher pitched.

And then it was over. People chattered about it all night, trying to figure out what on earth could make such a sound. Nobody slept much, but I think I got more sleep than some. Even after the unexplainable sound, I wasn't very worried. I wasn't very eager to get home.

FWOOOO (flashback indicator noise)

I tossed and turned in my bed, trying to get to sleep, trying to ignore the yelling that resonated through the house. It was more of the same, really. I never actually freaked out or anything until the volume reached a certain level or the regular flow of the argument was interrupted. This usually didn't happen. Eventually they tired of their fighting, and soon after I fell asleep.

When I got home from school the next day, the phone rang almost the moment I walked in the door.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hey, Cam."

"Debbie! Hi." I hadn't heard from my sister in weeks.

"So, mom called me today."

"And . . . ?"

"She told me how bad things are between her and dad."

"Okay . . ."

"She says she thinks it's for real this time. They might get divorced."

"Finally."

"She doesn't want you around to see all that. She was thinking you could come stay with me for a while."

"What do you think of that idea?" I asked, my heart beating painfully fast and my palms already beginning to sweat.

"You know I'd love to see you, Cammy. So what do you say, think you could spare a few weeks of school to come visit me down under?"

I needed to sit down; there were no chairs around or anything. My shirt felt like it was sticking to me everywhere. I could barely breathe, and still I tried to keep my tone calm.

"Are you still with that Jared guy?" I asked. I could almost hear her scowl.

"Cammy, we're married. I think you'd hear if we split up."

"Listen, Deb, I'll think about it. I'd really like to see you, but . . . "

"But what? You can't seriously hate my husband so much that you'd say no to two weeks out of school, lounging about in Australia."

"No, it's not that . . . Jared's alright, I guess." I lied.

"Then what is it?"

"I've been struggling a little with keeping my grades up, this year, You know that. I'm worried that I won't be able to get away with missing a few weeks like I used to."

"The reason your grades have dropped isn't that you're not smart enough, Cam. It's that you're in such a toxic environment, with mom and dad constantly fighting. If you come down here while they get all sorted out, you can have somewhat of a fresh start back at school."

"Okay. I said I'll think about it, Debbie. I really want to come."

"Damnit, you'd better say yes."

"Why?"

"Well, you've never said no before . . . we thought you'd jump at the chance to come down here. So, I sort of already bought your two-way ticket for you."

"You did what?" Cold fear drenched me. Only now that I was starting to feel utterly trapped did I realize how fully I did not want to go to Australia.

"If you don't want to come, then . . . that's fine." Debbie sounded hurt.

"No, Deb, I'll come." I sighed. "You say this was Mom's idea? So, she won't object?"

"Of course not. Your plane leaves next Wednesday, you'll be going home eighteen days after that, on a Sunday."

"That's more than two weeks." I pointed out.

"See you soon, Cammy. I can't wait!"

She hung up on me, and I burst out in tears before I even put the phone down.

FWOOOO (/end flashback indicator noise)