Chapter One

"I hear you are trying to raise an army." Sayid folded his arms across his chest and glanced at the stick tied with white cloth to her side. What did she think she could accomplish with that? She wasn't Eko. She had the will, surely, but not the strength.

"Where'd you hear that?" Ana Lucia answered, head cocked to the side.

"When you and Jack ask a dozen people if they are interested in joining you, word travels."

"Yeah. I guess it does." Ana sat down on a fallen tree stump.

It wasn't clear what she had been doing in this part of the jungle. Gathering fruit, it looked like. At least she knew how to make herself useful, Sayid thought. "Why did you not come to me first?" he asked. "You are aware, I presume, that I was a soldier?"

Ana nodded. "We didn't think you'd be interested."

"And why is that?"

Ana ran her tongue across her lips and looked off in the distance. "You were preoccupied." She mustered the courage to look back at him. "So are you? Interested?"

"If there is to be an army," insisted Sayid, "I will raise it. And I will train it. You may join it, if you wish. I know you have not forgotten the way the Others took the children; I know you have not forgotten either their cunning or their ruthlessness. You remember keenly. You may be one of the few who truly remembers."

She had carried that knowledge with her, hadn't she? She had nursed the hate, like he was nursing it now. It had consumed her. It had made her rash. It had made her shoot Shannon. It had also made her save Bernard and Libby. And maybe that hatred could save the children, maybe it could help Sayid claim the vengeance he coveted.

"Of course I haven't forgotten." Ana looked at him defiantly and brushed a wisp of black hair from her face. "But I don't need training."

"I beg to differ. So, I am sure, would Shannon, if she were alive to do so."

Ana pursed her lips and her eyes grew hard. But she didn't say he was wrong. "Fine then, I'll learn from you. But there isn't much sense training without guns."

"I will have the guns." Sayid finally let his arms fall to his side. "I will have them by tomorrow morning."

Ana didn't voice her doubt. If Sayid thought he could get the guns back from Sawyer, maybe he could. At any rate, he didn't much look like he wanted to be gainsaid.

Ana had heard about Gale. Sayid had beat him badly; it was worse that than what she'd done to Nathan, and he had even convinced Locke to help him do it. That was clever work, Ana thought. But Sayid hadn't learned anything. He'd just learned what he probably knew already—that Gale was lying.

Ana had heard, too, that Jack had pulled Sayid kicking from the interrogation room. She liked Jack, but the truth was, she didn't much respect him. He was fun to flirt with, a nice guy, a break from the brazen world about her, a break from her own hardness. But in the end, she didn't really believe he couldn't be depended on to do what had to be done. He was weak. If she was going to go after the Others, she'd much rather be following Sayid than Jack. Of course, she'd rather not follow anyone.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Sayid asked, "Who have you recruited thus far?"

She ticked off the names of six interested people, besides Jack and herself.

"Locke said no?" Sayid asked.

"I didn't ask Locke. Neither did Jack."

"You did not ask Locke? You did not ask me? The two best shots on the island, the best tracker, and the only soldier. What are you and Jack playing at? Were you planning a tea party before you set off into the jungle?"

Ana's lip twisted into an unattractive snarl. She didn't answer.

"What about Eko?" Sayid asked.

"He said no."

"To you. I will ask him again. And Charlie will join us. Maybe Locke, if I can dislodge him from the button. Did you ask Kate?"

"No."

Sayid sighed loudly. "So you and Jack did not ask anyone of note? I would not expect you to know the relative skills of the survivors here, but Jack ought to know. I suppose he did not want rivalry. He is not as reluctant to lead as he pretends to be."

By now Ana had surmised that Jack didn't like to be challenged. But then, neither did she. Neither did Sayid, she suspected, when it came to it. Locke—Locke was a wild card, a calm and quiet one, but an uncertain one nonetheless. He made her uneasy. She didn't know why, but she hadn't wanted to mention the army to him. But it wasn't her army anymore, was it?

"Meet me here tomorrow morning," commanded Sayid. "And we will begin our work."

He didn't wait for her affirmation before turning and walking silently back through the jungle.