"Soph, wake up." Someone shakes me gently. But I groan and roll over in the stand, groggy and still exhausted. "Sophia, it's time to wake up." The voice becomes more stern.
"Here, watch this;" a female voice whispers, "Hey, we found some food for breakfast." She calls to me.
I immediately sit up, turning around, and look up at Dad and a woman, young, with dark curls, that appears to have been just walking by. Both the woman and Dad smile at me, then each other.
Dad chuckles light-heartedly, "She's always been difficult in the morning, I shouldn't have expected being stranded on an island to change that. Thank you-?" He searches for her name.
"Kate." She supplies, "and don't worry about it, I was the same way." She glances at me and winks. I smile, I like her. She looks down and begins to walk away when she quickly turns around, grabs something from her bag, and tosses it toward me. I barely catch it-my reflexes dulled by drowsiness and soreness-but I do. When I look down at it in my hands, I discover myself holding a chocolate bar. I open my mouth to profusely thank her, but Kate is gone by the time I look up. Dad and I are only sitting there for a beat before we hear Jack gathering a crowd on the beach.
There's always something going on with these people.
Goodwin goes to the collection of the survivors, instructing me to stay here. So I shrug and happily eat half my chocolate bar; I know it won't last long in the heat, but I want to savor it as long as possible.
Goodwin returns several minutes later. He sits next to me in the sand. "What'd Jack want?" I ask.
Goodwin relays Jack's instructions, "He said to build tents. Him and a couple of others are going to go find the cockpit, but everyone else should stay here. We're going to set up a sort of shift-system. Everyone has to participate. I'll obviously be helping with some of the wounded. What are you good at?" He asks, needing to find me something to contribute with.
"I can hunt." I volunteer eagerly. It's something that Grandad taught me, ignoring Juliet's protests, but I never am allowed to back at the barracks.
"That will drawl too much attention." He denies. I see his point, we don't want people to start asking questions.
"Well I'm small, sign me up for helping look through the wreckage for stuff we can use." I realize that not only are these survivors struggling through, Goodwin and I also have to rough it for a while.
"What are Jack and the others going to the cockpit for?" I ask, my voice dropping quiet, looking around subtly.
"They're looking for a transceiver." Goodwin responds, whispering.
"Is that gonna cause a problem for us?" To our safety and our mission.
"It shouldn't." He answers confidently enough that I trust his opinion.
Goodwin must see the group heading out to leave for the cockpit, Jack and Kate and another man, because he pulls me close, hugging me. Once he's sure they've long passed, he gets close to my ear. "Tell Ethan when you see him about the transceiver." Goodwin whispers in my ear.
I'm confused. Me, talk to Ethan? Isn't that completely Goodwin's job. "Me?" Is all I say, my head tilted and eyebrow furrowed.
"You'll understand soon. But I've gotta go check on everybody. Go out and meet some of the passengers. Be careful and remember." He orders dismissively, hugging me, though I suppose more for the cover than actual affection.
"Okay, bye." I wave as he leaves.
I sit in the sand for several minutes before my stomach violently clinches. I suppose that chocolate bar won't sustain me. So I stand up, not even bothering to attempt to brush all the sand and dirt off me, and start my search for something to eat.
I wander towards the plane. It's so unfamiliar; I just hope that no one can sense it. This mission has my life on the line.
"It's pretty crazy, right?" Says a voice behind me. I look over my shoulder to see a boy, just younger than my supposed age. I solemnly nod.
"It's a wonder any of us survived." I say. The boy nods in response. We sulk in the minute before he changes the pace.
"My name is Walt." The boy introduces himself, significantly more upbeat.
"I'm Sophia." I smile back.
"I didn't know there was another kid here." He means that was on the plane and lived.
"Me neither." I say. We both smile at each other, I guess somewhat happy that there's another for us to be friends with. My heart tightens when I remember that I'll have to betray him. He must see the flash of pain on my face because he is quick to say something.
"I wanna show you something." He says. I nod, agreeing to come with him. He takes my hand, his dark skin contrasting with my extreme paleness, and yanks me toward the tree line. I remind him of my lack of shoes, but he says that I won't need them where we are going. My feet are tough, so I walk fairly cautious through the woods, struggling to keep up with Walt as he drags me along.
"Olive, come on!" Juliet calls behind her as she runs ahead, laughing.
"I'm coming!" I eagerly shout in return. My stubby legs aren't moving fast enough, not as fast as I would like them to, at least. Juliet realizes this and slows down, smirking at me. She finally grabs my hand and continues running, turning around to laugh with me, her curly hair blowing wildly around her face.
Her grip is firm and protective. I feel like she will never let go; I don't want her to let go.
We lay on our backs in the middle of a grassy field, the sun soaking to our bones through our white skin.
It takes me several minutes of silence to gather up the courage to speak. I take a deep breath. "Juliet?" I call her by her full name, which notifies her that I'm serious. She sits up, ready to listen. "When is Rachel coming home? She didn't look good when we last saw her."
I can visibly see Juliet restrain herself from correcting 'good' to 'well', but doesn't, which notifies me how serious she is. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." She swallows thickly and takes a deep breath.
"Rachel isn't coming home." She says.
But my five-year-old mind doesn't comprehend. "What are you talking about? Mom said she could come home whenever she feels better." I say, confused and not understanding.
"She's not going to feel better, Olive." Juliet deadpans.
I feel sad from her tone, but I still don't get it. It only aggravates me how she seems to not want her to get better.
"She's going to die, Olivia." Juliet cries. Though her voice conveys frustration, I know it's not toward me. Juliet grabs me and pulls me into her arms. Her body is wracked with sobs as she holds me and I almost immediately am crying too. We cry together, fiercely holding each other.
I remember when our pet turtle died last spring; I cried for a week when I realized he wasn't coming back. I remember Juliet telling me that he's gone to a better place now.
"Rach is goin' to heaven?" I ask, making a connection, "Like Pistachio the turtle?" I look up to her with big eyes.
She looks down at me with a sad expression, then cracks a smile. She emits a strangled chuckle, her throat sore from crying and her nose stopped up, and uses the back of her hand to wipe her nose and then her fingers to clean her face.
"Yes, like Pistachio." She uses her shirt to wipe my face and holds me in her lap. "But don't you worry, Olive, everything will be okay. I'm here to make sure nothing ever happens to you."
"Sophia, we're here." Walt notions ahead of us.
I look past him to see a small lagoon, waterfall included. Blue and yellow flowers and tall trees and extensive growth, as well as a fresh and exotic aura, surround the paradise. Rocks line three of the sides, the fourth narrowing into a small creek. The area smells of dirt, fresh water, and a sense of freedom.
"Like it?" Walk looks to me, smugly smiling in success. I can't even find words, so I look back to him and nod gratefully.
My awe rapidly morphs into ambition. I side glance to Walt, for only a second, and take off running. I dash straight for the water and push off of the edge of the rocks. I point my body in preparation for a dive and glide smoothly into the water. I resurface a second later, laughing, and wave to Walt to join me. He smiles excitedly and rips off his shirt and shoes and cannon-balls off the cliff into the water.
Walt and I spin the next couple hours swimming in the river. We sit under the waterfall. We crawl onto the flat rocks and lay in the sun. I split the last half of my chocolate bar with him. We splash each other and laugh in the cool, refreshing water. We talk a lot, too, about mostly real things, with the exception of some of my lies, of course. I feel relaxed and free, though I still miss my sister.
"There you are, Sophia!" A familiar voice calls from the top of the rocks. Honestly, I feel slightly disappointed that our little piece of paradise has been penetrated. I look up to see Kate standing there, and I cheer up a little.
"Hey Kate!" I wave back.
"Your dad is looking for you. Good thing there's only one barefoot little girl here, or you would have been harder to find." Kate smiles down at me. I mentally scold myself to find some shoes, though I honestly don't think it will affect her ability to track me.
"Okay." I call back, rising from the flat rock, my clothes heavy from water weighing me down slightly. I slowly but surely tiptoe up a slim path up the rocks to reach Kate. When I reach her, it's obvious she's to take me back to my dad, so I turn back to Walt and poke my head back over the ledge. "Bye Walt. See ya soon." Then I catch up with Kate.
"Walt took you here? He must like you." She teases smirking, playfully elbowing my arm.
I don't know how to respond, so I just scrunch my face-causing Kate to laugh-and keep walking beside her toward the beach.
"I'm sorry to have been such a bother. I didn't realize people would come looking for me." I admit, looking down at me feet.
"You're not a bother. Your dad was just wondering where you were and I volunteered. I asked around and heard you left with Walt, coming this way. I tracked your footprints down to the river." She explains, then adds, "Actually, this is where I landed from the crash."
"Really? Way out here?" I ask incredulously. Kate nods, confirming.
"Yep, I was here when I heard-"
But Kate is abruptly, and violently, interrupted.