VII: Down in the Mall
After he heads away from the truck, Sawyer heads straight for his tent. It's still kept up, but there's some stuff missing. He's not surprised. They're all scavengers, and he took stuff from dead folks. No reason they shouldn't have taken stuff from him. Still, if anyone took his cigarettes, they're going to have hell to pay. He wouldn't put it past anyone, though. He ducks into the tent, heading for where he had hung a bunch of stuff for safe-keeping in a knapsack.
He shoved a few sharp things into the pockets, too, so that in case anyone should get sticky fingers they'll be stuck with something. So he doesn't reach for the pockets immediately, instead laying out a scrap of cloth from someone's torn-up clothing and dumping the contents on the cloth. Straight pins and bits of glass fall out first, and he spots a few cigarettes amidst the contents, flicking them up carefully.
Now for a lighter. He had a lighter around here somewhere, too. He lifts a few cases, rifles through a few sacks and packs and finally finds one. It's not his. It's got a picture of the Space Needle on the front, and he's never seen Seattle. He remembers picking it up from the wreckage, though, thinking that one day, it would come in handy. Apparently it has. He rattles it around in his free hand for a moment before closing his fingers on it and propping himself up on the old airplane seat that he's salvaged from the wreckage as well. Propping the cigarette in his mouth with another hand, he sets fire to it, shutting his eyes almost all the way as he takes a long drag on the smoke.
When he squints, everything glows around him in the twilight sun, the sky peach-to-red against the teal water below. The colors blend, the shapes indistinct, and for a moment he sees a wall of shifting, hazy light, orange above, blue below. Maybe he's hallucinating.
"Hey, you got another one of those?" Sawyer feels his brows lift, and tilts his head up so he's staring at the figure that stepped right on in to his own optical illusion. Charlie's standing there, motioning towards the cigarette. "Smokes. You have another?"
Sawyer doesn't want to share. They're his cigarettes, and the last thing he's going to do is to waste them on some wannabe, almost-was musician. Charlie looks like he'd really like the smoke, though, and from the way that the younger man's screwed up his face when he asks for the requests, he looks desperate for it, too. There's something that can be used there. Sawyer palms the lighter and plucks up a second cigarette from the cloth covered with junk, holding it up like a stick of chalk and motioning with it towards Charlie. "You get this on one condition."
The Englishman doesn't seem inclined to argue with him. He even reaches out for the cigarette halfway, before realizing that Sawyer isn't likely to hand it over that easily. "Yeah?" he asks. "What's that? You want me to move back to the caves? Talk to Claire about that, huh?"
"Well, hell, son, she kick you out? I'll be damned." His lips stretch for a grin. "Nah, I ain't gonna tell you where to live, Chaz. You want to set up camp down here, you go right ahead. I got a more important favor to ask of you." Charlie doesn't blink or draw away, so Sawyer knows that he isn't entirely opposed to helping. That's a good sign. "I want you to keep doin' what you were gonna do." Charlie's face doesn't shift into denial, but he does blink, and a second or two later Sawyer realizes that it's out of confusion, because the young man squints at him, tilts his head, reaches a hand to his collar to signify discomfort. No explanation is needed, but direction's what Charlie's after, and he's more than happy to provide it for the Brit. "That computer you were gonna smash. Go back over there and do it, R.F.N."
"R.F.N.?"
"Right frickin' now. Euphemism."
Charlie takes a few moments to process the command before the gravity of it hits home. "After I smoke, I will," he agrees, if with not quite the punctuality that Sawyer had requested, and reaches out for the cigarette. He gets it, and casts around for a lighter. That isn't going to be provided, though. Sawyer wants to see how long the kid will search for it before asking. Charlie gazes around the place as if trying to find where that "You know, you've got enough stuff here that you don't use, Sawyer, you could probably sell some of it to people. Set up shop."
"The island mall. Hell of an idea. Only thing is, nobody'd pay me anything for it. They wanted something, they'd just take it. They've done it before." He can feel his voice turn snappish at that, sharp, offended somehow, and he's not sure why that is. He's stolen stuff himself, so the idea that he should get pissed off when someone does the same to him doesn't quite make sense. He knows he feels that way, though, and that's what counts. "Lookin' for something?"
"A lighter. Can't smoke if you don't have one, can you?"
Sawyer moves the hand he'd palmed the lighter in and shows it to Charlie, the Space Needle centered in the palm of his hand. "Sleight of hand," he tells Charlie, and then lets his hand go lax, tossing the lighter in a slightly clunky fashion towards him. "You think people would want stuff, though?"
"Everyone wants something," Charlie replies lightly, taking a drag on the cigarette before handing the lighter back.
Ain't that the truth, Sawyer thinks. We all want something. Even here. We don't worry about survival; we worry about who's going to get the best stuff. Good thing I've got it, then.He studies Charlie as he smokes. He'll have no problem getting him to smash the computer, especially if he figures out a way to bribe him. He won't tell him anything more than that, though. Not a word about why he wants the computer smashed. He doesn't trust the younger man quite that much. He taps some ash from the cigarette, craning his head towards Charlie, running through his words in his head once before he asks them. "If you're sure about that, then what do you think people would do to get stuff?"
"Depends on who you're asking, what they want, and what they have to do to get it," Charlie replies without hesitation, and Sawyer hears a ring of familiarity to those words. They're a classic con mentality, really, but what would some damn musician know about any of that? Hell, it's not like Mott the Hoople has had a hard life or anything like that. "Who are you thinking of bribing, though? Besides me, I mean."
Sawyer looks at Charlie slantways, smiling only a little. "Now that ain't none of your business, is it? I need you to know, I'll tell you. All you've got to do is go deal with that damn computer. You got your cigarette, so you agreed to it. No backing out now." He sticks the smoke back in his mouth, looks back towards the water. "You can deal with that computer stuff tonight or tomorrow. Your call. Now scram."
The sudden dismissal takes Charlie by surprise, who straightens a little as if preparing to take offense at it. He thinks better of it, though, declaring, "Yeah, all right," and climbing to his feet.
The way the young man's shadow drifts away from peripheral vision lets Sawyer know that he's taken off, because Charlie isn't worth the effort of actually watching to make sure he leaves. Besides, there are more important things to pay attention to. That water out there, for one, and Charlie's suggestion that he sell people stuff. He hadn't liked the idea of being generous and just giving things out, but if there's something to be gotten for it in exchange, then that's all right. He can do that. He'll have to figure out what he can get rid of without losing too much leverage on other people. That's another ace up his sleeve, though, and he smiles contentedly, takes a long drag on the cigarette, and goes back to staring at the water.
Twilight has come on fully now, and things are growing darker, and he's not sure if it's the way that the sun is hitting the water, the way he's looking at the water, or both, but if he squints again, he doesn't see that wall of light. Instead, he could swear that he sees a strip of land across the way. He must be going stir-crazy, because there's no way he's ever seen that at low tide before.
