A/N: Hello lovelies! I'm back with Chappie Two. This chapter is a jumpstart for later chapters. I hope you like.

So, I have a major problem with stories that are all quote-the-show's-dialogue-word-for-word stuff. In my book, I'll try to avoid using the movie's dialogue to the best of my ability, which might also mean changing teensy-weensy little things in the plot. I like being original, and I hope you guys don't mind it. However, there will be some brief instances where I do end up using a quote here, a line there from the show. Cool?

Remember to read, review, follow, favorite, whatever!

DAILY QUESTION: When Harper comes to Juliet in The Other Woman, is she real? Or is she Man in Black? Is she a whispery person? So, basically, is she dead? And, if she is dead, how did she die? If she isn't dead, how did Ben get to her?

Okay, okay, I know that was like, a million questions. Still, it's been bugging me and ma sis for a bit.

Thanks and happy writing!

Jess

Day Two on Monster Island. And, much to everyone's frustration, no rescue planes have been spotted.

I decide to help organize some of the baggage. The doctor guy, who's been taking care of the marshal with the shrapnel, said that people should start clearing away the dead bodies and bringing the baggage to one big pile.

While lugging bags back and forth and tossing them in the pile, I notice a black and gray duffel with the name Coree Cosenzo written in marker on the side. Curious, I go to find Coree immediately. She's sitting on the airplane wing, using a cloth to scrub the dried blood off her arm.

"Hey," I call. She looks better compared to last night. "I think I found your bag."

Her eyes light up, and she sets the cloth down. "Really?"

"Yeah. Your last name Cosenzo?"

She nods and smiles, the first time I've seen her smile. She takes the bag from my hands and hugs it tight, like a toddler would with a teddy bear.

The lifeguard boy, the one who's probably a year or two younger than me, comes to me, his face severely burned from the sun. "We're going through the rest of the bags and sorting the clothes," he says. "Wanna help?"

I do want to help. I nod.

The beach looks much more organized with the dead bodies gone and the bags in one pile. Up the beach, close to the treeline, the doctor set up a tent for the marshal. From what I heard, he went with a woman and another man to look for the cockpit and bring back the transceiver this morning.

I kneel in the sand with my back to the water, sorting through clothes. In one pile, I have the sensible clothes - jeans, cargo pants, t-shirts, a few bras, some tops, sweatpants and sweaters. The other pile is mostly things like shorts and suits.

To my right is a blonde Aussie, heavily pregnant, and a few other survivors that I haven't talked to. I haven't gotten any names yet, all I know is what people look like - the black guy and his kid, an Asian couple, the lifeguard, the doctor, and some more.

"Hey, can you pass that?" the pregnant lady says.

I look up at her. "What?"

"The water bottle right there. Can I have it?" She points to an Oceanic water bottle. I hand it to her.

"Thanks," she says. "I'm - I'm Claire."

"Oh. Jess."

I can't help but stare at her stomach. She must be - what, eight months into her pregnancy? I wonder why she'd be flying airplanes so far in.

"No, I don't know if it's a boy or a girl," she says suddenly, grinning.

I open and close my mouth, taken by surprise. "How'd you know I was gonna ask that?"

"You wouldn't be the first," she tells me. Her Australian accent makes me smile.

I'm about to talk again when I hear, "Hey! Hey, stop, that's mine!"

Someone climbs over the pile and snatches away the duffel bag in my hands. It's a teenage kid with short brown hair and a large blood stain over the right side of his abdomen.

"It's mine!" he says again, like I didn't hear him the first time.

"I'm sorry, I was just sorting the clothes!" I say, irritation flaring up inside of me.

"Yeah, then I'd never see my stuff again," he growls. "Anyway, sorting clothes is pointless when rescue'll be coming any minute -"

"Why don't you help out over here instead of making it harder for the people who are helping -"

"Oh, come on, blondie -"

"-and maybe you could stop waiting around for rescue and give a hand -"

"- I don't have to do anything, I don't even know you -"

"Hey! Just shut it," says a voice. It's the British hobbit guy with blond hair, stepping over the airplane wing. He must have just returned from his little hike across the island. "Everyone's fighting so bloody much around here."

As if on cue, I hear shouting from across the beach. Two men are locked in a fist fight, surrounded by a crowd of uneasy-looking survivors.

"What's that about?" Claire asks, squinting with her face turned to the fist fight.

I shrug, giving the kid in front of me a fixed glare. "Dunno. I'm not gonna get involved."

The kid scoffs and turns away, climbing back over the pile. I notice him wince as he does so.

The fist fight has stopped. I recognize the doctor among the crowd, talking to the others.

An hour or so later, I find myself curious about what happened. Maybe they found something at the cockpit, something to help us get rescued. I stop sorting laundry and head down the beach, which has calmed considerably. I recognize one of the two men that were fighting as the southern guy I talked to last night. I don't recall him ever telling me his name.

The other man, an Arab, leans against the side of the fuselage, holding a black walkie-talkie thing. It must be the transceiver from the cockpit, something that the doctor brought back.

Even more curious, I walk up to him. "Hey, what happened out there?"

"Which part?" he asks with a heavy accent, focused on the transceiver in his hands.

"At the cockpit," I say. "Is the transceiver broken?"

"Not broken. It just isn't picking up a signal."

"Okay. Anything I can do the help?"

I can tell by the way he looks at me that he thinks I'm not old enough to understand or something like that. "What's your name?"

I cross my arms. "Jess."

"Jess. I appreciate your concern, but I think I've got this under control."

I purse my lips. "Some of us here just want to do something," I say firmly. "I need to help."

He hesitates. I can't tell what he's thinking until I see acknowledgement pass across his face. Then he finally says, "Alright. If you want to help, go find me the woman that brought me this transceiver. Her name is Kate. She was with the doctor last time I saw her."

"Got it," I say, then, "Hey, what's your name?"

"Sayid."

I nod, heading off quickly.

The doctor is in his tent, sitting in the same spot since returning from his trek. He kneels next to the marshal, shrapnel looking, if possible, worse than yesterday. "Where's Kate?" I ask, leaning against the top of the tent. I find being straightforward is the easiest way to do things.

He shakes his head, not looking up from his work. "I don't know. She went down that way last time I saw her." He points behind him, down the beach and towards the water. When I go looking, I find her bathing in the ocean.

"Hey!" I call. "You're Kate, right?"

She turns around, hair dripping. "Yeah?"

"Sayid is looking for you. He's up the beach by the fuselage."

She nods, turning to wash herself some more.

Wandering back to Sayid, I can't help but wonder how we'll be able to use the transceiver to call out to rescue ships. Those goddam rescue teams just can't locate us on Monster Island.

"Where's Kate?" Sayid asks when I reach him.

"Kate's coming," I tell him. "She's be here in a minute or so."

"Good." He gazes intently at the transceiver, like he thinks if he can stare at it long enough it will transform into a banana.

So, how will we get a signal?" I ask Sayid, leaning against the fuselage.

"With such low battery, broadcasting blind to a ship would be unwise," he says. "If we wanted to get a signal anywhere on this island, we'd have to go somewhere higher up."

"Oh . . ." I point towards the mountains. "You mean up there?"

"That would be the best place, yes," he says.

Looking at the mountains again, I can't help but think that trekking all the way up there would be like trying to climb up the side of the Eiffel Tower. Damn.

Kate comes back to me and Sayid, dressed in real clothes and drying her hair with a towel. "Did you fix it?" she asks.

Sayid goes on to tell her basically what he told me - how we'll need to climb up the Monster Mountains to be able to use the transceiver. "If we're going on a hike, you'll want to start packing now," he says to me and Kate. "It may be a long walk."

With my suitcase nowhere to be found, I haven't got much to pack. But I try anyway. I make a note to find my bag after this.

Grabbing a brown backpack from the sorting pile, I stuff it with some Oceanic water bottles, an extra t-shirt and socks, and two more bags of gummy worms that I had bought along with the first on the plane. I replace my sandals with hiking boots.

However, before leaving with Sayid and Kate, I need to do one more thing.

I find Coree standing in the water and looking out at the ocean, sweatpants rolled up and legs swaying with each coming and going wave. I secure the backpack buckle around my waist and stand next to her.

"So, spotted any rescue boats yet?" I say jokingly.

"No," she says, looking at me. Considering she's fourteen and I'm almost twenty-four, the fact that she's not much more than a few inches shorter is a little embarrassing for someone like me.

"Listen, I'm going on a hike. I won't be back for a while. You okay with that?"

"Another hike, huh?" she says. "Didn't someone go on a hike just yesterday?"

I laugh. "Yeah. They did."

She sighs and crosses her arms. "See you when you get back." Then, "If you get back." She turns to me again, unsmiling but still with a sense of humor. "Joking."

When I get back to Sayid and Kate, I see we have some added companions: the hobbit, the lifeguard, and the lifeguard's sister.

Kate's look says, Oh, joy.

And, what do you know? Just as we're heading into the jungle, the southern guy joins us. Him, of all people.

From the looks on everyone's faces, nobody is happy about that. Especially Sayid.

"Let's go," Sayid says, brushing past him. We all follow him without a word, getting further and further away from our camp and deeper into Monster Jungle.

Ryan

I saw a dog this morning. It was a yellow lab, just standing there by the treeline and staring at me for a moment before running away.

Lifting up the front of my shirt, I take a look at the injury in my side that I got from the crash. The wound seems considerably worse since earlier - an angry shade of red and so painful it aches. The wound itself has stopped bleeding, but somehow I'm not comforted by that. It looks bad.

I guess all I can do is leave it alone and hope for the best. So I lower my shirt and forget about it.

Turning my head, I watch a group of seven or so people head off into the jungle. Another trek, another stupid and worthless adventure. I don't understand why they bother. Rescue is coming.

I stand up slowly from my spot in the shade of the trees, hand pressed against my side protectively. I'm too restless to stay in one place very long. Rescue is late, but that doesn't mean they're not coming. For all I know, they could be flying to the island at this very moment.

I turn around to take a pee in the jungle.

The dog is back.

He stands under the trees, wagging his tail and panting like a normal dog. I notice a collar on his neck, something I hadn't seen earlier.

Something about him creeps me out. Get him.

"Come here, boy," I call. "Come here. Good dog. Come here."

I step forward.

The dog turns around and sprints away the moment my foot touches the ground, barking loudly.

Catch him! Catch him!

For some reason, I want that dog. So much that I even chase him into the jungle without a second thought.

Running ahead of me, I hear him barking and occasionally see his yellow tail through the underbrush. I'm not a long-distance runner, but I can really sprint, even with an injury. Playing football for seven years can do that.

I run and run until I begin to hear voices up ahead. I skid to a stop in the middle of a clearing.

It's the group that I saw heading off on that little hike thing. When I appear, they all jump and turn to look at me accusingly.

"Did any of you see a dog run through here," I pant, "with a collar?"

"No," says the Brit, a grin spreading across his face. "I saw a dinosaur with a fedora."

"What are you doing here?" says the blonde girl, the one I fought with earlier. She glares at me with her arms crossed.

Under my breath I mutter, "Awesome, it's the PMS girl."

"Excuse me?" she snarls, starting to move towards me. The Arab guy holds her back.

I glance at each one of them. "What you all doing?"

"We're trying to get a signal for the transceiver," says the cute brunette lady, irritation written all over her face.

"You coming with us or staying, kid? 'Cause we haven't got all day," says the grouchy blonde. With the fire she's breathing, I feel like she's going to pull out a rifle any moment and gun me down.

I take a moment to decide. I don't really care about any dumb transceiver - rescue is coming - but this trek is starting to sound like fun.

Apparently I take too long to think, because the blonde scoffs and says to the others, "Come on. Let's just go."

Giving me some last glances, the group starts to head further into the jungle, leaving me by myself.

Oh, come on.

"Dammit, wait up!" I call, running forward to catch up with them.

We trek on for hours. Somehow I fall in in step at the front of the group with the Arab and the southern hick. Along the way, I learn names - Sawyer, Sayid, Boone, Shannon, Charlie, Kate, and Jess.

I'm not exactly sure where we're going - somewhere to boost a transceiver signal? I can tell by the glances and the dirty looks - especially from the dragonlady Jess - that I'm not wanted. A dangerous hike into the Heart of Darkness is not for little boys like me. Well, to be honest I'm done with all the looks and the glances and being treated this way.

Everything gets even better when the we reach cliffs. Cliffs. I look around incredulously, but everyone else looks perfectly fine with climbing up the side of a mountain. At least, their faces show no sign of fear.

I feel someone push my shoulder. "Scared yet, kiddie?" says Jess.

"Get bent, blondie," I tell her.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sayid asks me. He eyes the blood stain on my shirt. "It's alright to head back to the beach."

"Jesus, people, I'm fine." I scowl and take one of the vines, pulling myself up. My side twinges in protest, but I ignore it.

We begin our slow ascent up the mountainside. As we get farther up, I begin to fall into a pattern: grab a vine, put your foot down, pull yourself up. Grab, foot down, pull. The hardest part to it is placing your hands and feet in the right spot, otherwise you could find yourself falling to your death.

Grab, foot down, pull.

My side twinges. I see Shannon and her pretty boy brother Boone next to me, struggling just as much as I am.

Grab, foot down, pull.

I'm starting to regret deciding to come on the stupid trek.

Grab, foot down, pull.

When it seems like the suffering will never end, we finally reach the top. Sawyer leans over and grabs my arm, pulling me over the ledge. I grit my teeth as my injury gives an extra strong burst of pain.

"That was fun," Charlie comments cheekily as I stand up, panting.

I lift my shirt just a little and take a peek at the wound. It's bleeding again, just a tiny bit. I see Kate watching me, so I lower my shirt and stare right back at her until she looks away.

"We should keep moving," Sayid says as Boone pulls Shannon over the side of the cliff. "We don't want to waste any daylight."

Nobody argues. So we plow onward.

Since I tend to end up in the front, I find myself hanging out with Sayid and Kate again. Sayid spends the next hour fiddling with the transceiver, barely even noticing when the rest of us start to lag behind. He keeps it up much longer, and we all might be eating his dust.

"So, what did happen at the cockpit?" Jess asks loudly, striking up a conversation with Charlie.

"Well, let's see," he says. "It was very exciting. Something you'd totally like." She laughs at this. "We went inside, found the broken transceiver, met the pilot, who, by the way, was torn to bits by that -"

Kate stops in front of me, frowning. "What?" I ask.

She doesn't answer. The rest of us go quiet.

"Why'd you stop -" I begin.

"Shh." She puts a hand to my chest, staring intently into the greenery before her.

For a second I think the woman has gone insane. Hearing things.

Then I hear it, too.

Not far away, I hear a growl - a low, guttural animal sound that makes my spine tingle. I peer ahead to see what it is, but the tall grass hides it from view.

"What the hell is that?" Jess mutters cautiously, hands balled up in fists beside her.

It growls again, snorting. I see the tall grass moving and can hear the animal moving towards us.

"What is that?" Jess repeats, louder.

I can see it coming closer.

"We have to go," Kate murmurs. "Run." The thing comes closer. "Run! Run!"

Before I can even react, everyone is running. Kate grabs the back of my shirt and pulls me along. "Run! Now!" she yells at me, pushing me forward.

My feet pound into the dirt as I sprint through the grass. The pain in my side . . . I almost can't take it anymore. I press my hand against it so hard that it bleeds even more. I need water. I need medicine. I need to get away. Why the hell did I come on this hike in the first place? Now we're all going to get eaten by a monster -

My foot lands on a rock and my ankle twists. Before I even know what happened, I'm lying face-first on the ground and the only thing I can feel is pain. Someone puts their arms around my torso and drags me back to my feet. I see Jess's face behind me, yanking the collar of my shirt and pulling me forward. "Go faster!" she shouts at me.

I keep running with Jess behind me, wondering when the monster is going to catch up to us. I wonder if it likes the taste of kids -

BAM!

I almost stop when I hear the gunshot. I see Jess falter a little too. A gun? We all turn as more shots are fired.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

"What the -" Jess moves forward, peering ahead. I notice Kate and Sayid behind us, all looking in the direction of the gun.

I realize that we're missing one person. One person, who did not run when everyone else did.

Sawyer.

How the hell did Sawyer get a gun?

The jungle has gone silent. The only thing I can hear is everyone else's ragged breathing.

Jess goes to check it out, and we all follow her. When I get there, I see Sawyer standing with gun in hand. And lying on the ground in front of him is a large white animal . . . a bear.

"That's a . . . polar bear," Jess murmurs.

I find myself wincing again. I've gone crazy.

"How about you, dear? Would you like me to refill that?"

The stewardess pointed to my plastic cup of coca-cola, which was almost empty. I shook my head. "Thanks, no."

She smiled and pushed her cart down the aisle. I turned to Ray. "I need to go to the bathroom," I told him.

"Hold it," he said flatly.

"I can't just hold it," I said, but he ignored me. I scoffed loudly and turned to look at the other people in first-class.

Such was a typical conversation with my step-father.

Ray had his pen and paper, filling out paperwork or other business-like stuff. There was never a moment in that man's life where he wasn't working for his job as the owner of a growing sneaker company in Australia. He never had time for me or Mom - he chose work over his family.

I glanced around and fidgeted. The plane was mostly quiet except for the quiet hum and the occasional exchange between a passenger and a steward. I turned to Ray again. "Listen, I really need to go," I said.

"I'm sure you can wait. We only have . . ." he checked his watch. "Six hours left until landing at LA X." There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Are you serious?" I muttered at him. Firmer, I said again, "I need to go to the bathroom." After no response, I said, "If I were with mom, she'd let me go."

"Excuse me?" He folded his paper to look at me, eyes unblinking and dangerous.

"We both know she only put me on this plane with you because she wants us to 'work things out'," I said in a low undertone. "Only she doesn't know that some things can't be worked out."

"You're on this plane," he growled, "because I thought a little vacation to California might do you some good. Your mom never did anything."

"Oh, really?" I challenged him. "Then why isn't she here now?"

"Stop trying to make me seem like the bad guy here. You should be grateful."

"For what? You never talk to me, never hang out with me. When was the last time you even asked me how my day was?" I asked, so angry that my voice had gotten louder than a whisper. "And now, out of the damn blue, you want to take me on vacation to LA? And you expect me to believe that mom had nothing to do with this?"

"Keep your voice down!" he growled. "You're making a scene."

I had had enough. I stood from my seat and began to walk away. Ray twisted around and tried to catch me, but I jerked my arm out of his grasp and stormed down the aisle. Screw him. Screw Australia. Screw LA.

I locked myself in one of the free bathrooms near second-class. This was my chance to take a piss, but instead I just stared at myself in the mirror. I wanted to punch Ray in the face and break all his fingers and throw him off this plane. That dickless douchebag ruined my life. He destroyed my relationship with my mom, turned her against me, made us move to Sydney for his stupid little sneaker company, and doesn't even act like a father or a husband. He's the perfect definition for jerk.

The plane shook. A part of me wanted Ray to come and get me, to just talk to me, but the other half told me it wasn't going to happen. Ray wasn't going to embarrass himself in public just so he and I could talk. He wouldn't care if I died in this bathroom.

I wanted to snap his fucking neck.

So, what's stopping you? said the dark side of me. I know how horrible I sounded, but my fingers were literally itching to punch him, strangle him, break his arm, anything. Why shouldn't I?

It's not like he ever bothered to restrain himself.

The plane shook again, a little harder this time. I heard an announcement on the intercom: "Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts."

I didn't want to go back to my seat. This was probably just a bit of wild turbulence anyway. So I stayed in the bathroom.

I leaned against the sink, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. I'm going to use the bathroom here, then go back to my seat. I'm going to forget that we ever fought, and so will Ray. I'm going to stay there until we land. I'm going to survive these next few days in LA until we go back to Sydney, home shit home . . .

The plane jerked wildly, sending me flying against the mirror. My head snapped back as I hit the floor, and for a moment my vision went fuzzy. When I regained focus, I pulled myself up to my feet and reached for the doorknob. The plane was shaking so violently, I could barely stand without slipping. I jerked the doorknob - but it wouldn't turn.

Shit.

I turned it again, shook it, but it was stuck tight. I didn't know why - maybe it was jammed. The plane jerked harder and I slammed into the ground, sliding into the far wall. Wincing, I reached for the knob again, pulling it and tugging it while trying to keep myself standing at the same time. The soap from the sink was flung across the tiny room, missing me by inches.

This was happening. And I was stuck in a dumb bathroom.

I felt anger boiling up inside of me. No. I was not letting this happen to me.

I stepped back, bracing my hands on the edge of the sink, and kicked at the door. Then again, harder. When I kicked it the third time, it burst open, flying off the hinges. Using the walls to balance myself, I staggered towards the nearest seat, pulling on the yellow oxygen mask.

The sounds were . . . unbelievable. All I could hear was screaming and plane engines. The plane was dropping so fast, it felt like my eyes and eardrums were going to pop out. The oxygen mask wasn't giving me enough air. I sucked in as much as I could, but the more I tried, the harder it was to breathe. My head felt dizzy. Why couldn't I breathe?

The fear was getting to me. I felt nauseous, but my struggle to regain my breath was overpowering everything else. I was afraid. More than anything else in my entire life, I was afraid.

A few seconds later, my eyes rolled up in my head, and my vision went black. I couldn't remember anything after that.

The bear is dead, and everyone is pretty shook up. We march on like nothing happened, even though I know it's on everyones' minds. After Sawyer shot the bear dead with the mysterious gun (which he supposedly got from the marshal), we hiked on as planned. Well, Kate took Sawyer's gun first. Man, she's hot.

Sayid sidles up to me a few times asking me if I'm okay (while they ever leave me alone?), and I brush him off. At the moment, I just want to be left alone. The pain in my side has become almost too much to bear, but I haven't got a choice but deal with it, so I'd rather not talk about it.

I blame the dog for all this.

"I thought we went on this little hike to check the radio," Sawyer says loudly. "Now'd be a good time, right?"

Sayid doesn't answer, but I see him turning on the transceiver anyway. He presses a button, and after moment, he murmurs something inaudible.

"What?" I ask, stopping.

"Bar," he says. It takes me a moment to realize that he's actually smiling. "Hey! We've got a bar!"

"What the hell does that mean?" I say, but he doesn't hear me. The next moment, everyone is crowded around.

A shrill, piercing sound comes from the radio's speaker. Everyone winces.

"What's that?" mutters Jess.

"Feedback," Sayid says. "Something's already transmitting. Something close to us - the signal is strong."

"What? How?" Kate asks.

"I don't know. We can't transmit unless it stops."

I roll my eyes. "What is he even talking about?"

"Shut up," Jess tells me, but it sounds like she's too distracted to be mean.

Kate runs a hand through her hair. "Okay. What do we do?"

"We may be able to listen to it if I can get the frequency." He turns a knob above the transceiver's screen. The static from the speaker gets softer, and something else come through: French.

Everyones' eyes widen as a female voice starts babbling French from the speaker.

"That's French, right?" Charlie says, grinning. "It's the rescue team! They're already coming to get us!"

"See, that's what I've been saying this whole time," I tell him. Nobody listens.

Kate's face becomes serious as she turns to us. "Does anyone speak French?"

Boone points to his sister. "Shannon."

"What?" She shakes her head. "No, I don't!"

"What are you talking about? I've heard you speak it!"

Before she answers, a new voice comes from the transceiver. It's male this time and sounds like those robotic voice mails that you get when someone doesn't answer their phone: "Iteration . . . 1 . . . 7 . . . 2 . . . 9 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 3 . . . 1."

"Does anyone know what the hell is going on?" Sawyer yells.

Nobody bothers to tell him to shut up. The static starts to grow louder, and Sayid says something Arabic under his breath. "We haven't got much time, the battery is dying."

"Shannon, come on!" Boone urges, having some sort of staring contest with his sister.

Finally, Shannon snatches the transceiver from Sayid. "Fine!" she muttered, putting it to her ear as the French woman's voice came on again.

"It's repeating," Sayid says aloud. "A loop."

"What?" says everyone at the same time.

"It's a running count of the number of times the message has been repeated," he explains. He looks deep in thought.

The robotic voice came on again: "Iteration . . . 1 . . . 7 . . . 2 . . . 9 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 3 . . . 2."

"It's about thirty seconds long, so . . ." He closes his eyes and begins muttering under his breath. "How long . . ."

Shannon takes a deep breath. "She's saying . . ." she falters for a moment. "She's saying . . . 'please.' She's saying . . . 'please someone come.'"

Sawyer scoffs. "She doesn't even speak French -"

"Shut up!" Jess yells at him. Everyone falls silent.

"Iteration . . . 1 . . .7 . . . 2 . . . 9 . . . 4 . . . 5 . . . 3 . . . 3."

"I'm alone now," Shannon translates, her lower lip trembling. "I'm all alone on the island. . . please . . . someone come. The others . . . they're dead . . . it - it killed them. It killed them all . . ."

The phone makes another shrill sound, then it dies completely. The battery ran out.

"Sixteen years," Sayid says, breaking the moody silence. "Sixteen years, that's the count."

"What?"

"It's a distress signal. The iterations. Someone transmitted this . . . sixteen years ago."

"Someone?" Charlie murmurs. "Who?"

"Someone who was on the island before us?" Boone asks. Sayid doesn't answer him.

"So, the distress signal has been playing over and over for sixteen years," Kate says quietly.

Nobody says anything. Nobody wants to. I feel the hair on my arm rise.

Sixteen years is a long time.

And none of it makes sense.

Chapter title: "Fortunate Son" by Creedence Clearwater Revival.

I know this chapter was long, and I hope you guys enjoyed. OH MA GAWD POLAR BEARS AND FRENCH SIGNALS! (Let's pretend we don't know what they mean!) Vincent's kinda mysterious, isn't he?

Next chapter is starting to get into the later-stuff, if y'know what I mean- faster-paced and more exciting. Can't wait until my story gets into all the REALLY exciting stuff!

So, whatd'ya think? Don't forget to read, review, follow, favorite, whatever! :D

Thanks and happy writing!