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-Chapter 21-
Chosen to Lead
"Do you believe in destiny now, Dr. Lewis?"
She nervously glances to the pistol in Jack's pocket, unsure whether she's under the same miraculous protection covering Charles. She looks into Jack's eyes; he seems to be a reasonable man, just understandably confused. "I don't know what to believe anymore," she says, shaking her head.
Charles realizes she's frightened. "Don't be afraid. Like me, you also can not be harmed," he assures her.
Jack's anger simmers beneath; without a working gun he realizes he's powerless to do anything. "I don't believe in destiny," he remarks in defiance. "The future is determined by the choices we make."
"Tell me Jack; did you choose for your gun not to discharge?"
Jack stubbornly opens the pistol handle to check for bullets; the casing holds a full round and the bullets are properly loaded. He slips one out and holds it to the light to examine it. "How did you stop it from firing?" he asks.
"It's not magic, if that's what you're suggesting," he snickers. "It's because each one of us in this room share a very unique connection."
"Connection?" Jack's annoyed for being strung along in this mystery, and ready to sneer at any kind of farfetched explanation. "What kind of connection?"
"The Island."
Charles walks over to Theresa's bed and turns on several switches to her brain monitoring equipment. Multiple screen displays light up. Although she's unconscious, the charts and graphs reveal a flurry of activity. "Each of us in this room, including Theresa, happened to be on the Island during the same period of time; 1977."
"1977?" Jack remembers that date as the beginning of Theresa's medical records.
Charles points to a line oscillating up and down on the screen. "Dr. Shepherd, what do you suppose this particular graph indicates?"
Jack watches the monitor closely; he's already familiar with Theresa's unusual neural activity. "Speech recognition," he answers.
"She's probably on the Island right now, having a conversation with you." Theresa's expression is peaceful; her eyelids twitch as if she were in a deep sleep. "And because you are with her, that makes you profoundly special, Jack. It is my belief that you were uniquely chosen to lead a small group of survivors in an effort to save the Island."
Jack takes a moment to observe the equipment around the room; it looks like an episode of a 1970s era Star Trek. An array of decades old electronics are mounted into the walls. Flashing red buttons, rolling numeric displays, and analog tape recorders signal and record whatever scientific readings the devices are measuring. "Who are you people?" he asks.
"Eloise and I were part of a group of people who once inhabited the Island. My people, along with the Dharma Initiative, were forced to flee after the Incident took place 27 years ago. No one has been back or been able to find the Island ever since."
Charles opens a manila folder lying on a nearby table and pulls out a faded photograph. "I've explained to you who we are, but the question is, Jack: who are you?" He hands the photograph to Jack, who quickly recognizes it's a picture of his father, Christian Shepherd, along with a young girl on his lap he's never seen before.
"Theresa must have said something to you about your younger sister." Charles opens the manila folder again and pulls out a plane ticket. "It's 2004; which means you will be with your Island friends very soon." Jack looks over the ticket; it's purple with the Oceanic Logo emblazoned across the top. Flight 815. "I'll make sure the Doctors in the Initiative take great care of Theresa. Go now, Jack; you must find your father and sister in Sydney."
2004, On the Island, Inside the Cabin
Claire settles comfortably in a squeaky rocking chair, while the man resembling Christian Shepherd takes a seat next to the window. She misses her baby, and pictures him in her arms as she rocks back and forth. "Where is my baby?" she asks.
"He's wherever he needs to be in order to change events leading to your friends being saved," the man answers.
Claire pauses from rocking. "He's no longer here, is he?"
"Trust me." He relaxes by leaning back and crossing his right leg, then places his hands over his knee. "The only sacrifice required is not seeing your child until all of your friends return."
She leans back anxiously in her chair, tightening her grip on the armrests. "When they do return, how will I find him?"
The man smiles contently, confident his plan will work. "One of your friends is uniquely chosen to lead the survivors in an effort to save the Island," he explains. "That person will also lead you back to your child."
Claire pauses to think; her first choice for leader would be Jack. "Who is it?" she asks.
He places a finger to his lips and grins. "Shhhh. He's here, now."
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching and a pocket lighter flickering can be heard just outside the front door. The handle turns and the door slowly creaks open. John Locke enters the cabin and gently waves a lantern to see what's in front of him. He sees the shadowy figure of the man sitting next to the window.
"Are you Jacob?" asks Locke.
"No," he answers. "But I can speak on his behalf."
Locke lifts the lantern higher and approaches cautiously. "Well, who are you?"
The man leans forward, his face now fully visible in the light. "I'm Christian," he answers.
Locke places the lantern on the table and waits momentarily for instruction. He figures if Christian can speak for Jacob, maybe he can answer a few other questions. "Do you know why I'm here?" he asks.
"Ya, sure," he answers. "Do you?"
Locke gathers his thoughts, and shares his conviction he felt was right ever since he crashed on the Island. "I'm here, because I was chosen to be."
The man grins in response. "That's absolutely right."
Claire's rocking chair suddenly creaks. Locke is startled, and raises the lantern to see who else is in the room. He's dumbfounded as he quickly recognizes the blonde hair and blue eyes. "Claire?" he calls out.
"Hi John," she says.
Locke's mind races; he knows Claire went missing several days ago, and figures it was a trap. And now, what he thought would be a conversation with Jacob in the cabin might be a similar trap set for him. "What are you doing here?"
"Don't worry. I'm fine," she answers with a smug grin. "I'm with him."
"Where's the baby?" he asks, his voice panicky.
Christian leans forward and interrupts. "The baby's where he's supposed to be, and that's not here. It's probably best that you don't tell anyone that you saw her."
Locke's suspicion grows at the mention of baby Aaron missing. "Why? Why is she"
"We don't have time for this," Christian interrupts again. "The people from the boat are already on their way back, and once they get here, all of these questions won't matter one bit. So why don't you ask the one question that does matter?"
Locke gathers his thoughts and composure once again. Out of all the concerns on his heart, there's clearly one that matters the most. "How do I save the island?
The Island, 1977, Inside the Hydra
The group of Jack, Sawyer, Kate, Jin, and Hurley gather around Claire who is lying unconscious in a makeshift hospital bed. At first glance she's barely recognizable. Her hair is matted. Her complexion is no longer soft; her face is tanned and covered in dirt. Her biceps and forearms are toned. She's the new Claire; the hardened, survivor Claire.
"Whoa. No longer the little Misses all of us been used to," Sawyer quips, already busy thinking of new nicknames.
Kate leans over and squeezes her calloused hand. "Claire," she whispers, hoping to wake her. "How did you get here?" she asks, again with no response.
"She's here, because we left her here," Jack responds. The burden of leaving her behind still weighs heavy on his heart.
Jin looks to Sawyer, shrugging his shoulders. "I searched Island. Searched all sectors. Nobody found," he says, his English still imperfect.
Sawyer steps forward to get a closer look; she hardly resembles the Claire he last saw sleeping next to the campfire. He remembers everything about that night. They made camp for the night in the jungle, after leaving the Dharma barracks to get to the beach rescue. When he and Miles awoke in the morning, she was nowhere to be found.
"It's true, Doc. We left her behind," he moans. "But we sure as hell didn't leave her here, in 1977."
Suddenly, Claire's breathing grows louder and her eyelids flutter.
"Claire, can you hear me?" asks Kate, squeezing her hand again.
Claire's eyes open fully. Her lips are dry and cracked, but she manages to smile. "It worked," she whispers.
Kate leans forward and brushes Claire's hair back with her fingers. "What worked, sweetie?"
Claire's pupils adjust and her eyes refocus. She glances to each person standing around her. "Where is John Locke?"