The jungle always seems bigger when you are running from something. All the recognizable landmarks you thought you had learned over the months are no longer there, instead it's the trees pressing in on you from all sides, and no matter how long you've been walking you can't escape the claustrophobia. The humidity seems to increase with each footfall, the sweltering heat becoming more oppressive with each corner turned that doesn't lead you to your destination. And every noise seems to come from every direction, and it seems to follow you, an inescapable omen of your approaching fate. You begin to lose your wits; you begin to see things. It happened to a lot of them. Maybe it was the stress, the unequivocal fear, or the sheer lunacy of the events that happen on the island. Or maybe it was nothing. But when you're running from something the jungle always seems bigger.
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Sawyer was beginning to edge towards that panic produced by the knowledge that something is hunting you, and it's lurking somewhere in the jungle; tracking and waiting. Dawn was beginning to break as he weaved through the trees with the small group of survivors. He hadn't said anything to them; what was there to say? But as he realized he was utterly and completely lost, he turned around with a snarl, ready to demand that someone help by giving him directions as to where to go next. He was caught off guard when Claire looked up at him, giving a reassuring half smile. The hostility melted immediately, and he was a bit shocked by how she could defuse him so quickly. She was rocking Aaron, perhaps trying to lull him into sleep.
Miles was standing a little ways behind them, feeling particularly useless, and just as lost as the rest of them. He had a forlorn look in his eyes, and kept his arms firmly folded across his chest. He had been blindly following Sawyer, lost in his thoughts and was beginning to look particularly exhausted.
"You wouldn't happen to have any idea on where we are?" Sawyer addressed Claire, trying his best to keep the frustration out of his voice.
"Unfortunately Locke didn't draw me a map before we left him in the middle of the night," she replied as her face lit up with a smile; Aaron had finally drifted off to sleep. "I'm guessing we're lost then?" she continued, her voice a little softer now.
"I guess so, unless Bruce Lee back there has himself a GPS system," Sawyer joked, but Miles remained silent, merely shaking his head.
"I've got an idea," Claire mused, "since I miraculously got Aaron to sleep, why don't we take a little rest and get our bearings?"
"I dunno if I like the idea of waiting around for them to come pounce on us," Sawyer countered. But the exhaustion was really getting to him, and he had no idea where he was going. He could be walking right towards Keamy and the others from the freighter, or in the complete opposite direction of the beach. Nevertheless he wanted to keep moving. "Tell you what, let's find somewhere out of the way, then you and the little bambino can get some rest while I scout out ahead."
"Thanks Sawyer," she smiled as they headed a little deeper into the jungle. Eventually they found a nice, out of the way area where a group of rocks shielded a small plot of land from the rest of the forest. A lone palm tree cast shade around the little area, and Sawyer helped them settle in before addressing Miles. "I ain't gonna be gone long, but while I am," he lowered his eyes and his voice took on an ominous tone, "but you better be willing to give your life to protect Claire and her baby while I'm away, or I'll take it from you when I get back. Comprehende?"
"Yeah," Miles muttered as he slumped down in the shade, and leaned against one of the rocks. "But I'll need your gun, I mean if you want me to be able to do anything."
Sawyer reluctantly pulled out the 9mm hand gun he had been carrying. Miles stretched out his hand, beckoning for the weapon. Sawyer glanced over his shoulder at Claire, cradling Aaron, and released his grasp on the gun. He nodded to Miles, and stood up, though his feet were still aching and his head was pounding.
"You sure you don't want to take a quick breather?" Claire asked, looking up at Sawyer.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," he smiled back meekly. "Just look after yourself, and don't let that one do anything sneaky," he indicated over to Miles.
"I can still hear you asshole!" Miles shouted back. Sawyer dismissed him with the wave of a hand, and left the impromptu camp behind.
He walked slowly away from the cluster of rocks and trees, trying his hardest not to run back and lounge in the shade next to Claire. But then what? When he was all good and relaxed, they'd be just as lost as they were before. He wiped the sweat from his head before continuing out into the jungle. There would be plenty of time to rest at the beach. The cool breeze of the ocean, the relatively plentiful supply of food and water, and of course there was Kate. But she had left him. Well used him, and then left him. He slowed down, as drowsiness washed over him. Breathing heavily, he leaned against a tree to try and keep his balance.
"What the hell am I doing," he asked himself, then pushed off, heading back out into the jungle. As he walked tentatively through the trees, he tried his hardest to remain focused on his surroundings; searching for anything that might indicate what direction he needed to head. At the same time, he was trying to make a mental note of the path he took, so he could get back to the camp if he found anything.
He lost track of time as he continued to head through the jungle, as the sun beat mercilessly overhead. He vaguely became aware that he hadn't gotten any resemblance of rest since the barracks was attacked the previous day. His head throbbed as he continued on, scanning the horizon half heartedly. Soon his vision began to fade in and out of focus, and he simply collapsed under the nice shade of a tree.
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It took a little while before the panic set in. At first, if only for a precious moment, he felt refreshed. Then, as he slowly put the pieces together, he realized he was in trouble. The sun was pretty high in the
sky, but that didn't mean much to him, he never was the type to learn how to tell time by the movement of the sun; Locke, Sayid, or one of the others was always able to do it. He hobbled to his feet, and instantly began attempting to retrace his steps; there was no telling how much time went by, and Claire could be getting worried.
He was now tearing through the jungle, fully awake. He put his trail together as he ran, silently cursing himself for taking such an arbitrary course away from the camp. But wrong turn upon wrong turn soon left him backtracking, and his frustration soon morphed into fear. He paused for the first time since he woke up to find himself somewhere familiar. He narrowed his eyes, and noticed the outline of the rocks that formed one end of the small camp.
Without thinking, he shouted, "Claire!" and was met with an unsettling silence. He automatically reached for his pistol, before realizing he had given it to Miles. A sense of foreboding filled him as he crept towards the camp, and his fears were confirmed as he entered what Claire had called the little oasis. Except, now she wasn't there and neither was Aaron. Miles was, well at least in a sense. He was slumped against the rocks in the same fashion as he had been when Sawyer left, except now there was a very noticeable bullet wound in his abdomen.
Sawyer could tell he was still alive; his eyes were as wide as saucers and he was groping the air. His face was pale, and he had a hand clutching the wound, although it was covered in blood, some dry, some fresh. "Where's Claire?" Sawyer asked, looking around for any sign of what had happened. The gun he had handed Miles was still there, discarded a little ways away from Miles. Sawyer quickly inspected it to see that a shot had been discharged from it. "Where's Claire?" he repeated, this time harsher.
"H-h-help me," Miles stuttered, wincing as the words came out. Sawyer was becoming increasingly frustrated, "Once you tell me what happened to Claire! Did your buddies from the helicopter come back? I need answers!"
Miles coughed, and looked as if he was to shake his head and then stopped, resting his head against the rock and closing his eyes. "Please," he pleaded.
"Tell me somethin', anything!" Sawyer demanded. Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him. He froze, tensing up, wondering if he was imagining the approaching figure.
"You can stop questioning him James, I doubt he'll be able to tell you anything, considering the state he's in," a voice said with a sinister twist. This time it was Sawyers eyes that went wide. It was a voice he hadn't heard in a long time.