But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch's high estate.
(Ah, let us mourn!- for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate!)
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.¨
- By Edgar Allan Poe
--
Do you believe in Destiny?
Chapter 30, Mourn
--
"Watch that root over there." Alex grabbed her arm, but Lorraine shrugged her off.
"Don't touch me!" Lorraine spat. But she carefully avoided tripping over the root as she followed Alex.
"It's hard for me too. It's night and it's hard to see –"
"I know."
Alex took a deep breath. Lorraine Hume seemed to believe that she could do anything. She didn't want any help from her. And maybe it wasn't because she was so determined to not be weak, maybe it was because she just didn't want any help from Alex – one of them.
"So how are you thinking we are getting off this rock?" Lorraine asked after a while of silence. "Flying? Sorry, but as you luckily see there are no wings on my back."
"I know where there is a canoe," Alex said.
"Convenient. Did you steal that from the poor bastards who might have been in a plane crash, shipwrecked before us?"
"No. I built it."
Lorraine turned silent. "Cool," she finally said.
"Hold on," Alex said, holding out an arm in front of Lorraine to stop her. She saw someone walking towards them though the tall grass. But it was too dark and she couldn't see. She knew some were out on patrol, and she always had the radio in case they didn't believe her. But they didn't have the time to explain, not now.
She took up the slingshot from her pocket, waiting.
"Ben?" Alex gasped in surprise.
A flashlight was turned on, and the light blinded her for a moment before she could see him.
Ben looked like he had expected to see them there.
Lorraine froze on her side, but Alex could see one of her hands tremble.
"Alex, Hume," Ben nodded to them.
"You murdered him."
Alex looked at Lorraine, her hands were closed in fists and she was white in the face. Alex turned to Ben, and saw that for once he actually looked genuinely surprised. But the moment was quick gone.
"I expect you to bring Miss Hume all the way back to her camp. Do you know how to get there?"
Alex nodded. "Yes."
"Good, I must ask for you to be quick."
"Quick?" Lorraine snarled, completely different from the tone earlier. "Just can't wait to get rid of me, huh?"
"Yes, Lorraine," Ben spat, "I want you to leave quickly because frankly, I'd like to keep some of my people breathing, if not alive. But if that is too much trouble for you why don't you just stay?"
Lorraine became silent again, but there was some color back on her cheeks.
"You should go now." Ben walked past them, without as much as a look at Alex.
"Once I'm there, at their camp, you know I won't come back?" Alex shouted after him.
He slowly turned around. And his blue eyes looked into hers.
Then he walked away into the trees.
----
The world was pale and gray outside the window. Lori shuddered, she did not see the bare walls, the ugly old painting with the red boat and the large, rickety bed, but she could feel how miserable everything was.
"She died here," the old man said behind her. His name was Joshua, he was eighty years old but on every picture in the house he looked so much younger. Not that Lori could see them, not that she could see how much he had aged in the week since his wife's death.
He walked past her, and she heard him smooth out the sheets on the bed with his hands. "She couldn't speak. She was so, so sick. But I understood – her eyes, they were always so beautiful, round, brown, like a deer's."
"I know," Lori simply said. She could feel it. The desperation hung in the air and if she let it take over she would almost choke on it. He, of course couldn't feel it.
"She could barely move her hand, but it trembled and she –"
"Could you be quiet?"
"Oh, yes, of course."
He was still, but his breathing was loud, raspy, uneven. Lori frowned deeply, taking careful steps towards the bed.
"She was scared," she told him. "She was very scared. She lied when she said she believed in afterlife, she didn't, not really. But when you were at her side… she felt safe."
She heard him gasp.
Lori knelt by the side of the bed. His wife had died there, slowly faded away.
"She wanted it to end. She wanted it to end so badly and…" Lori's breath caught in her throat. She could sense it, the fear, but also the gratefulness.
And he had put an end to her suffering.
"She loved you."
That was really all he needed to hear. She accepted her money, avoided the hug and left as soon as she could.
----
One second. Tick tock. Another second. Tick tock. One minute. Tick tock. Time was running out.
And with it Jim's life.
Jack thought about the man's mother, wondered where she was. If she even was alive. If she even cared about her son. But if she did, how would she feel knowing that right now Jack held her son's life in his hands?
Jack was so deep in his thoughts he didn't notice Lalah slowly walking around the table. But he did notice when she snatched the guns from him with surprising grace.
"Don't!" she barked when he tried to get them back. "You don't need them," she told him. "We're doing what you're saying anyway. His life is your weapon."
Tick tock.
--
"STOP IT! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"
Flor winced, covering her face with her hand but that didn't stop Ivan from punching her in the stomach. All air left her, her head fell to the side and her hands grabbed fists of dirt as she desperately tried to breathe.
He waited. He waited for her to see clearly again, to feel the rain on her skin, to hear Sean scream (STOP! DON'T I WILL KILL YOU! STOP!) words that were just a mess of don't, stop and threats.
He waited.
And when Flor took in a deep rush of air he hit her again.
"Stop," she pleaded, covering her arms with her hands, her face, she couldn't protect everything. She tried to stand up, stand up and flee. Her legs wouldn't bear. "Stop, stop, stop, stop!"
Somewhere in her mind Byron was laughing at her for being pathetic.
"I haven't done anything!" Flor cried, wiping away blood from her cheek and for daring to do so he punched her again. Hard. No mercy.
That was when she realized he was speaking, frustrated, desperate, angry words.
Someone named Jamie. Someone who was good. Someone who had been alive. But now wasn't. Dead. Dead. Dead.
"PLEASE!" Sean begged from somewhere far away. No, closely. He was there. He was watching. He didn't want her to get hurt.
"FLOR!" Sean yelled. "GET UP!"
"Stop!" Flor raised her hands and she stood up against the bars. Her back leaning onto them. "One month! Ben said one –"
"Ben's not here!" Ivan leered. "He can't protect you any longer. You'll die anyway," he spat. "Why not earlier? I'm helping you, you know. Gotta hurt knowing you're gonna end up dead either way, at least you don't have to wait now –" And he kicked her again, on the leg, hard enough to make her fall down on one knee. "Was Jamie's death fast? I don't know. Won't let me know. That, that's pain. Do you know what pain is Bluth? Think this is it? What about losing the only thing you've ever cared about?"
Flor glanced quickly Sean's way. He was still shouting. "I've already lost him."
She charged at Ivan. It was the surprise – not the strength that gave her the upper hand. She pushed him onto the ground, but she fell down also. It felt like the bruises were pounding. And as soon as she was back up on her feet again, so was he.
His fist connected with her jaw and she fell down again. The world was red. Blood, from her lip, nose, from biting her own tongue, running down her chin.
"No," she whispered, not to him, but to herself.
Don't give up.
'Least not without a fight.
"FLOR!"
She stood up again, knew he was going to hit her now that she was up, back to breathing, back to feeling. So she ducked, hearing his fist hit nothing but air.
Get out. Get away. Get out.
She tried to run past him. The open cage door freedom. But he grabbed her arms. Slammed her up against the bars and she screamed.
"IVAN!"
It wasn't her. It wasn't Sean. It was the other man, Justin. Flor couldn't see him, but she turned her head slightly, and she guessed he was standing somewhere behind her outside of the cage.
"That's enough, Ivan! It will all be over in one month!"
"One. Month. Is. Not. Long. Enough!"
"Let her go. Ben will return soon."
"I don't care," Ivan was spitting out his words, and Flor looked at him, his eyes were big, crazy, his words twisted through his mouth. "I will kill her. Kill her. We're gonna do it anyway. Favor. Everyone a favor. Gonna –"
"Ivan! Someone's coming – Ivan!"
"Justin, leave."
Flor could hear him walk away, his steps fading, a door closing. Someone else was there now.
Please, please, help me.
"You said to me, Diane, you said Florence Bluth –" Ivan was speaking to the woman, desperate.
"I said it. I didn't mean it. Oh, brother. Shouldn't you have learned by now?" It was a woman's voice that had spoken, drawled out, slow, but still not soft but sharp. "I need you to step away from her, Ivan."
Ivan let her go. He took a step back and Flor collapse on the ground, panting, wiping blood again from her lips, from her eyes. Slowly, carefully she curled herself up in a ball, burying her head in her knees.
--
Claret was still like a statue until she couldn't hear the sound of his shoes clapping against the floor anymore. Then, she ran.
She ran down the corridor, opened the door and rushed down the stairs.
A woman stopped in her tracks, her small gray eyes getting big when she saw Claret hurry towards her.
"Ben," Claret panted, "where is Ben? Where is he? Tell me!" she demanded.
The woman shook her head, looking a little frightened. "You should be in your room."
Weapons. Guns. The woman didn't have any on her, but she could have. And Claret had seen, she knew. She knew they could hurt her. And she was so, so scared.
But for the moment, her fear didn't matter.
"Where is Ben?"
The woman stared at her for a long moment before she told her.
It was dark outside, but she could still see where she was walking. She tried not to think of all the horrible things that could be lurking out there in the dark and she hurried the fastest she could over the small path leading to the other building, Building 16.
She avoided going by the cages.
The door leading into the building was hidden by a large trees, leaves and branches hanging in front of it. She stepped inside, squinting, the brightness from the lamps such a change from outside.
She wasn't sure what was really in all the rooms. She guessed they were all storages, except for one room of course.
She wondered what could be hiding in the shadows.
She hurried up the stairs quickly. Her hands trembling as she opened the door to the second floor.
"Ben!" she called out, fear in her voice. She knew there had to be guards somewhere in Building 16, but she hadn't seen one.
In just that moment he turned around, one of the lights flickered and she cried out. Losing the bravery and anger she'd planned on lashing out.
"Claret, what are you doing here?" Ben asked, walking towards her quickly.
Claret, recovering, looked at him. His blue eyes looked concerned, and she liked to believe that is was for her. "I need answers," she said in one breath and he stopped. "I need answers now. I can't wait… I just saw someone… You have to tell me."
"This is not a good time."
"I don't care. I saw – I saw my father, Ben!"
Ben frowned. "Your father?"
"Yes."
He was silent for a long time, thinking. "All right. When I said this was not a good time, I meant it but you want answers so I will give them to you. But," he said sharply when he saw the scared smile spread on her face, "first I need you to do something for me."
He held out a file and Claret accepted it warily. She opened it, looking inside. "What is it that you want me to do?"
"What we spoke about earlier," Ben said calmly.
"But he…" Claret shook her head, looking up, "he's not ready yet! It's too early. We're not supposed to – he is not –"
"There are too many complications right now and my people will be more than happy to have one of the problems gone. I know this isn't quite the plan but right now, with these recent developments we have to do this."
"What recent developments?"
"Jack has… decided to take things in his own hands."
"But Ben –"
"Don't worry. Everything is being taken care of."
Claret nodded, but she knew he could see the doubt display in her face.
"Now, I need you to do this."
"Okay." Claret took a deep breath, walked past him to the door he had been standing outside. "How much do I tell him?"
"It doesn't matter," Ben replied.
She opened the door and closed it behind her. It was pitch dark inside the room and she flicked on the light switch.
"What the – who's there?" a gruff voice called out.
Wordlessly, she walked in a circle around the room until she was on the opposite end of the small table, facing the two doors next to each other and the Southerner sitting in one of the chairs, his hands tied back.
"Claret," Sawyer said, not a question, a statement that it was her before him and not a dream or hallucination. "Ah," he chuckled darkly, "so that makes it three musketeers. You, Madame Butterfly and Mickey."
Claret sat down in the chair, placing the file on the table.
"Still so damn scared though. Can see it, in those big blue eyes of yours." Sawyer smirked. "But baby, you know I'm all tied up."
"That's so you won't hurt me, James," Claret said.
Sawyer lost his Big Bad Wolf act for one moment, staring at her in bewilderment. "How do you know…?"
"I know a lot about you. Your name is James Ford, you were born 1968, to Mary Ford, you grew up in Jasper, Alabama." She was talking too quickly, her façade of confidence failing. "When you were eight your parents were conned out of all of their money by a man called Sawyer, so your father killed your mother and then himself. Year 1990, your life changed. You met Rosalie Alice Mills."
Sawyer's eyes became dark at the mention of her. But Claret continued on. And her voice was much stronger now, much more secure.
"You saved her. And you loved her. She was the only one you ever did truly care for in your entire life. In 1991, she gave birth to her child Eva, and she needed you more than ever but you still left. Because you couldn't stand the fact that now there was someone more important to her in her life than you. And you cheated, you conned, you were the rot in the society, but still you stayed in touch. Every second without Rosalie you spent destroying others lives just like the man you began to hunt, Sawyer, destroyed yours." Claret tilted her head to the side. "You became the man you hunted."
"So you got encyclopedic knowledge of me! Now what the hell –"
"Rosalie married Lalita Renneé Burton. And you conned a woman named Cassidy, sending yourself into prison in which you only served one year. You went to Australia, telling Rosalie and her family it was to see them, but really it was because you thought you had found the real Mr. Sawyer –"
"What the hell is the point of this?" Sawyer roared.
"The point is," Claret said, slamming the file shut, "is that we know you. I know you now. I know you shot Frank Duckett in cold blood. I know that now, the long double-life you lived, being a conman, being a friend to Rosalie has ended. The only good thing about you is gone. The only thing you ever cared about is dead. And do you know what that makes you, James? That makes you a bad person. A person who is not worthy of staying here on this island."
"Well someone has grown a spine," Sawyer snarled. But she could see the confusion, fear, sadness hiding behind his stoic face. "And believe me, Shaky; if I could I would gladly leave this rock."
"Good," Claret said, "because that's exactly what they want you to do."
"What?"
"As I said they don't want you here. You're a problem, James. You're a stain, and they want to wipe you away."
"You can leave this place? 'Cause in that case I don't understand why you're still here. And if you really expect me to believe you –"
"They don't. They've lied." Claret nodded at the two doors behind him. "If you open the other door you'll find nothing but an empty room. Eva isn't there."
Sawyer opened his mouth but Claret cut in, "They have her. She's just not in there. And that pacemaker isn't there. The only thing they installed in you was doubt. It was a game, a wonderful plan that now will never be executed. Because right now, they just want to get rid of you."
"Why not just fire a bullet through my skull?"
"Because that would be murder. There is nothing left for you here. Rosalie's gone."
"Eva, Lalita –"
"You don't have to pretend you care about them."
And the look Sawyer gave her was enough to send chills up her spine. It was a look that would have made her shiver, tremble with fear and whimper for the cruelty to stop. It would have, if she hadn't left the scared Claret behind when she closed that door. Like she took off her coat, and she would put it on later, but not now.
So now she just stared, her back straight, her words and eyes cold.
But scared as he said they still were.
"How did it go?" Ben asked, much later when she stepped back out in the corridor.
"He…" Claret looked down, and she couldn't help the tears that began to fall. She could see through the blur how Ben raised a hand; she would have thought it was to comfort her, if it weren't for the fact that Ben didn't do that.
"In the morning we will talk. You should get some sleep now."
--
"We're here," Alex said, relieved when she saw through the wild forest of leaves glints of the ocean. She leaped over a root. "The canoe is here… help me." She uncovered the branches she'd put over it and Lori, warily helped her too.
"Take a hold there," Alex told her. And they began to drag the canoe out from the trees.
"Is…" Lori said quietly.
"It's there, the island is just over the water."
Lori turned her head, like she could see the amazingly blue waves and the other island, big, mysterious and right there.
The two oars were in there, good.
"So you guys just got canoes lying around, hidden in the jungle? How'd you get it anyway?"
"I built it." Alex smiled a little, thinking about how Karl and she had made it together. There was pain in that thought. They could have had so much. But everything just stood in their way.
"Come on, we need to get it in the water…" Her voice trailed off and she straightened her back, looking at the jungle.
"What is it?" Lori asked, then she gasped.
"Diane," Alex said, staring at the gun pointing at them. Diane was holding it in one hand, her face expressionless.
"Alex," she said gravely.
"Ben said – Ben said he would let us leave –"
"Yes, Alex, I know. I will let you go. But first, I need you to contact Jack and say you are okay." Diane threw a walkie, but it wasn't Alex who caught it, it was Lori.
"Seriously," Lori snorted, "you are just unbelievable." But she still put it to her mouth. "Jack! Jack are you there?"
At the other side of the island, the walkie-talkie crackled and Jack took it quickly out of Addie's hands. "Lori?"
Lori smiled. "Jackie, good to hear your voice."
"Are you safe? Are you in safety?"
Lori nodded. "Yeah, yeah I am. We're just about to leave. We got a canoe and stuff, this girl even built it herself." her voice shivered, and Alex saw that she was trembling, but she was trying to keep her voice steady.
For Jack.
"Lori, leave and don't come back. You can't come back for me, do you promise me that?" Jack nodded to Addie, who took the radio from him and held it up so he could start stitch Jim up and still talk to her at the same time.
Lori laughed hoarsely. "Since when did I start following your orders?"
Jack smiled. "Please, promise me."
"No can do."
Jack shook his head, his smile disappearing. "Damn it, Lori! Don't come back!"
"Do you really mean that? Or are you still trying to play the hero? You don't need to be the hero."
"Leave. Go back to the camp. Don't come back."
"I won't leave –"
"I love you."
Lori almost dropped the walkie, and she squeaked, "What?"
"Don't come back. I love you."
Lori stood there, gaping. "I… I… I will so not fall for that trick, you moron!"
"I need that back now." Lori gave the walkie back to Alex who threw it to Diane who caught it with one hand.
Without another word, Alex and Lori left the island.
And Diane walked back into the jungle.
----
"Who the hell are these people?"
Lori chuckled under her breath when she heard the angry man's words. As all the others, he was told he was one of the many physics Mr. Peterson had hired to speak with his daughter.
Who of course was dead.
"Can't believe this," he muttered and sat down in the chair next to Lori. She frowned; it was something about him – something different.
"He just wants to be sure," she said in a low tone.
"He wants to be able to pick and choose the conversation he likes best, and it doesn't work that way."
"Yet you're still here," Lori pointed out.
"We get paid, a lot."
She snorted and she could feel his gaze on her.
"Yes, because of course you do this by your kindness only, and getting paid is a plus in the margin."
"A huge plus." Lori smirked. "At least I'm not lying."
"Never said you were," he mumbled. Louder he said, "The blindness must be good for business."
"Smooth, since I really am blind." She expected a shocked silence, maybe an awkward apology.
"I know," he replied instead.
"Mr. Straume," called a voice from the room here all the other "psychics" had entered.
"Wish me good luck," the man at her side said as he walked away into the room.
Lori couldn't believe this. She'd been there for almost over an hour! She began to mutter to herself just to freak out people sitting close by.
After just ten minutes Straume returned. Lori knew it. The… difference was back in the air again. She expected disappointment, swearwords, for him to throw a tantrum just like everybody else who had gone in because they hadn't gotten paid because the man Peterson wasn't happy with their answer. That was mostly the reason she'd stayed, the challenge.
But instead she heard him thank someone for the money.
A woman came and told her she wasn't needed anymore, and the ones left in the waiting room started to get angry. She felt him leave the room and hurried after, almost tripping over the stairs since she didn't concentrate.
"What did you do?" Lori yelled and she heard him stop. She caught up to his side.
"Told the truth," Straume replied, and she could hear the glee in his voice. "Told him that his dead, but kind of hot, daughter hated his guts."
Lori, instead of getting furious over having wasted hours of her life for nothing, laughed.
----
Jack was thrown into his prison and he stumbled on his feet, gripping the table as the door was closed behind him. He took a moment to catch his breath before he stood up, his legs bearing for just a second before he collapsed on the dirty floor.
Lori is safe. Lori is safe. Lori is safe. Jim is saved. Lori is safe.
He heard the door open on the other side of the glass. He got up to his feet and saw Felicity stand there. Her arms were crossed over her scrubs, her bright green eyes piercing into his.
"Thank you," Felicity whispered.
Jack walked up to the glass, facing her. "I didn't do it for you."
She was silent for a while, and he didn't know what she wanted him to say.
In the end, he just couldn't stand her staring at him like that. So he said loudly, "When am I going to do the surgery on him?"
"What?" Felicity's eyes were big, and she looked surprised.
"Ben. When am I going to do the surgery? I saw the x-rays, they're his, right?"
"I… I just wanted to thank you." She spun on her heel and left the room quickly.
--
Lalah hadn't had the time to change her clothes after all the events from the night. There had been people to tell, Jack to get back to his cell, Jim to be taken care of, dealing with all the questions and Ben suddenly telling her Claret was now in charge of Sawyer.
It was a relief when she was back in the room. But there was a moment of confusion when she wondered why the room was dark, why there was no one there waiting for her.
When work was over, when she closed the door behind her and with it all the new things she'd experienced, all the pain she left behind her too. And she expected, stupidly expected, that there would be someone there to help her with it.
But it was getting harder and harder. She couldn't let it go as easily anymore, and now, it was almost impossible.
She couldn't sleep. And she didn't have the time.
She left her room. Avoiding any contact with anyone on the way down to the deepest floor, underground. Where Shephard, crazy Shephard who'd managed to let one of his friends go (a pity, since Lalah had been curious on what the experiments would show, but alas, she wasn't that important), and risked Jim's life in the process.
No one was in the observation room. And Lalah sat down in the chair, taking a moment to look at the monitors. The one that should be showing the cages was black. She immediately pressed a button next to the intercom.
"Korosov, you there?" she said, hoping Addie had the radio on.
"Korosov here."
"Could you check out Bluth and O'Donnell? And the surveillance camera there isn't functioning."
"I'm on it, Lee."
Lalah pressed the button, turning the connection off. Instead, she pressed another one and turned a knob beside it.
"Lee here. Is there someone there?"
Lalah waited patiently, and an answer came after a while.
"Con –" static interrupted the speech, "– tion was a bit off but it should be fixed now. Vince here. Is there a problem at the Hydra? I've already checked in with Ben."
"No problem here. Vincent, I had to leave quickly earlier on –"
"You don't have to say goodbye, darling. I understood."
Lalah smiled, because she knew Vincent was absolutely genuine. "Right. Can you ask Niles if he got… somethin' for me?"
"You mean – a message?"
"Yeah."
"Hold on, I think I saw him right outside. Can you wait?"
"Yeah, sure."
Lalah waited, she shifter her position in the chair. She pulled up her legs to her chest and leaned back.
"Lalah, love, you there?"
"Yes!" Her answer was too hectic, too out of control.
"He said he didn't have any. Sorry."
"He said that?"
"Wrote on his little notepad. Something along the lines of: 'A message loses its meaning when it is told from someone else's lips.' Don't know what to make of that."
"I know," Lalah whispered to herself. Louder, to Vincent she said, "Thanks."
"Night, Lalah."
She didn't answer and ended the connection between the two islands, sighing deeply.
She needed something. She just didn't know…
She jumped up on her feet. It would soon be morning, another day of work. And she didn't want to sleep. Why not just get started right away?
--
Flor woke up when the first rays of sunlight hit her face. And when she did, she had no idea how she could even have fallen asleep. She cried out in pain, her whole body felt like it was on fire.
And then, when she pulled herself up in a sitting position, it stopped. The hot, burning magma inside of her faded and all that was left was ache.
"Are you okay? Flor? How –" the voice was desperate, she didn't recognize it. She kept her eyes closed. If she opened them Ivan would be there again. He would hit her. They would kill her.
"That's it," she heard from somewhere far away. And maybe she wasn't awake; she hurt too much to be. And still she somehow couldn't feel.
She blinked; completely startled she looked into Sean's eyes. There was something wrong about him being there. He… the cage…
Flor struggled up on her feet. Her bruises ached painfully. "How – how did you get out?"
"I climbed," Sean told her, and he rushed to the lock. "Ana-Lucia got out of hers earlier, too. And the camera is still down, I think. I can…" He picked up a rock from the ground.
"You – you think –stop!" she cried when he started banging the stone against the lock. "Stop it, please!"
The sound was too loud. They were out in the open. Anybody could see him, and he would be punished. Hits, bruising kicks, blood, red everywhere and blue from the rain. Not him. Not him.
"There's no time. We have to get you out of here. We have to go back." His words were rushed, blending into each other, a mess. Just like her head was a mess of memories, of pain, of fear.
"No!" Flor reached through the bars and grabbed his wrist, but it didn't stop him. She tried to grasp a hold, but she was too weak. Always too weak. Pathetic. "No! Please! There's no – we – we're on another island, Sean, please don't."
"I don't care. Anything – anything for time." It wasn't like him. Words incoherent. Eyes burning like he was having a fever. Not him.
Flor hadn't been realizing she had been crying until this point. But the tears were streaming down her face, salt and blood and dirt running down in her mouth. "We don't have any," she whispered, useless words, for him no meaning, for her it meant everything. One month. One month left. But with Ivan, it could just as well be an hour.
"No – stop – no –" And he did.
Flor whirled around when she heard the steps, trying to gather herself enough to figure out what to do. But it wasn't her who needed to hide.
Sean was back into his cage, not looking the least tired from the climbing. And she sat down, since her legs were shivering too much.
A woman with short, blonde hair came walking into the area. She held a gun in her hand. She looked harsh, like the kind of woman who wouldn't take any kind of misbehavior and she looked up at the camera. She didn't throw a glance Sean or Flor's way. She picked up her walkie but Flor couldn't hear what she was saying.
Blue and red. Three drops of blood in the snow. One month.
--
Red and blue, dripping down always down, dirty gray roof, white covering everything, bodies spread out and worms crawling. Eye for an eye. Mindless words, oceans rushing in. Ana. Ana. Scream, not hers. Ana didn't scream that way. A young boy. She could see them. But she couldn't. Her eyes were gone. Tears, tears, tears. Rest in peace. They died here. They died there. One after one, Ana-Lucia, Jack –
And Lori woke up to the smell of the sea and the sound of someone – Alex – walking around. She heard the sounds of her putting out a fire.
"Why – oh," she groaned, sitting up.
"I let you sleep for a while."
"Uh-uh." Alex nudged something against her hand and Lori opened her palm.
"You must be hungry; it's a piece of a mango."
"I knew that."
Lori carefully took a bite. It tasted absolutely wonderful.
"We should get moving."
"Hold your horses." Lori stood up. "Do you even know the way to our camp?"
"I'll find the way," Alex replied, sounding way too cheerful for so early in the morning.
"Sure you will."
Lori still followed after the girl.
----
"So you like, look into their minds and hear what people think before they die?"
"I'm not a TV," Miles said, "I don't 'hear', more like…"
Lori nodded as she understood. "Just knowing."
"Yeah."
Lori took a sip of the cheap alcohol. She was shocked that she wasn't more surprised, that she didn't think he was lying, that she just simply knew that he was like her. Not one of those scams and oversensitive people who actually believed themselves when they read tarot cards and lit a candle for a ritual. He seemed to be the real thing.
And, as Lori had noticed under the short time of their conversation, he was a jerk.
But that was all right, since nice people were rarer than clairvoyant psychics, Lori should know.
"When did it start?"
"What?"
She waved with her hand. "Your psychic powers of doom." Lori took another sip, ugh, it was disgusting.
"I wouldn't exactly call them powers, they're my income and they have always… been there."
"So when you were… what? Eight? You could chat to dead people?"
"Couldn't you?"
"Nope." She took another sip, huh; it was funny how better it tasted with each swallow. "No feelings of death, no weird vision-like things, no dead thoughts. Not even when I went to the cemetery. Started when I was seventeen. Got up one day, walked down the street on my way to school and bang! Dead person lying in an alley. Kind of freaky."
"Okay." She could hear the mockery in his tone. "So basically, what you're telling me is that I'm far more powerful."
"I thought you said it wasn't a power."
Suddenly her cell rang, Lori didn't bother listen to what he was saying as she answered it. "Hume here."
"It's Penny."
----
"Will you leave?" Lalah said to the two guards standing outside the cell. There had been two more, outside the only door leading into the corridor of the room. Double security, double the cameras.
Didn't matter, though. They all knew that. Nothing could keep something as wild as her in.
"Addie said –"
"Scram or I'll call Ben myself."
The two guards exchanged a look and left. The door slamming shut behind them, a lock clicking into place.
They all thought it was useless, the extra security.
Lalah opened the door with one hand, balancing the tray with food on the other.
Should just put a bullet though the prisoner's head and be done with it they said.
She closed the door behind her, and put the tray down on a small table. The room was small, a passage. There was another door on the opposite wall, bars instead of wood and she could see right in.
"Liking your new home?" she said to the woman inside.
The woman stood up on her feet, her black hair cascading in front of her face in a way Lalah wasn't used to see her. They had pulled out the woman's ponytail; she wasn't allowed to have anything that could be used as a weapon. There was nothing inside but her, not a chair, not a blanket.
Her new clothes were thin, and Lalah could easily see the horrid scar running up her back.
"Brought you some food, you know the drill. Sit down in the corner and I'll give it to you, yeah?"
The woman did nothing but to turn around. She tilted her head to the side, just a little, her captivating blue eyes looking into her own brown. Her skin was pale, too pale against the dark eyebrows and the red lips.
Lalah raised an eyebrow. "It's good food, Janna. Unless you aren't hungry. I sure ain't. Have had a terrible day."
Janna still didn't move, but she blinked.
"Haven't slept." Lalah laughed hoarsely. "Still have bloodstains on my clothes." She swallowed. "I'm sure you will be glad to know another one of us almost died today."
A small furrow appeared between Janna's brows, like she was saying that she wasn't happy at all. But you could never know with her. She always changed, always new, always intriguing.
"Please sit down in the corner."
Janna nodded slowly. Pulling her hair back she sat down.
Lalah took out the keys out of her pocket that she'd taken from one of the guards. She wasn't supposed to go inside Janna's cell; she was supposed to bring the food through the bars.
Janna knew that.
She didn't make a noise as Lalah put down the tray in front of her, and after a moment of hesitation – Lalah sat down too, her legs crossed.
"Remember when I told you of the new ones?"
Janna nodded, taking the bottle with water and drinking.
"One of them managed to flee today, but we're not going after her."
The corner of her lip twitched, all Janna did for a smile.
"I don't know anymore. Ben is just… he doesn't tell us anything. He says he got a plan but what the grand deal is about we – I have no idea. The point of bringing Ford and O'Donnell here is beyond me."
Janna still didn't say anything.
"And I haven't heard from her. And now I'm stuck here – on this damn island! And you're not talkin', not saying a friggin' word, why?"
"Because," Janna said slowly, "you are the one who needs to tell, right?"
And Lalah did.
--
Lori hadn't been able to walk much. She'd fallen asleep again embarrassedly enough, and she could feel the irritation practically radiating from Alex as they hiked through the jungle, she had to take breaks about every fifteen minutes.
"It's almost night. We can set camp here."
Lori could have cheered with happiness. But she was saving her strength. She knew they were close to the camp. She flopped down on the ground and leaned against a tree and Alex began to work on the fire.
"I'm surprised," Alex said after a while of silence.
"Of what?"
"That you haven't tried to go back, escape from me to get your friend, Jack. Not that – not that I want you to do that. You said you wouldn't listen to him."
"I always disagree with him. That's how we roll." Lori smiled a little. "But I'm never, ever going back there."
"Why?"
"Do you know what your father did to me?"
She heard Alex put down her canteen. "No," she said quietly.
"They kept me locked up inside this room, cold, I suppose it was dark too. So, the first day, I'm in there all by myself." She had been angry at first, screaming, threatening to nothing since there was no one listening. But then, as the hours passed and she had no idea what hour it was or why no one visited her, said something the fear had raised and all she had been able to do was to curl up – stay silent and wait.
"Then," she continued, "I think it was night. The door opened, I didn't… no one spoke. But I knew there was someone there, and someone else too. But they were not the same. And the door closed, and one of them was gone, but there was still someone there." She swallowed, blinked. "It was Ana, Ana-Lucia."
"I thought she die –" Alex stopped herself and went silent.
"Do you know what I can do?" Lori said silently, standing up just as quietly.
"They – they don't, my dad doesn't –"
"They kept me locked inside that room," Lori carefully, soundlessly took a step forward, "with the dead body of my friend. Hours later, they brought two more corpses. Took one, they took away Ana. Hours passed after that. The smell – was horrible. And then they brought in another one. A child."
Lori took one step forward. Listening, determined where she was. The leaves rustled from the trees, but the ground was gritty sand. She could hear the sea, the waves.
"The child, it was a little boy, died screaming." She bent to the ground, silently. She knew Alex wouldn't hear her. Knew that she wouldn't turn around. "I can feel death."
And she picked up the log and swung it at her head.
At least, she thought as she hurried away over the sand, she hadn't said something as cheesy as: 'I see dead people.'
----
Lori was sitting, still as a statue in her couch. Her hair was much shorter now, barely reaching down to her ears. On the table was a half empty glass, the wine that Stephen had left last night, and a magazine Cassie had left there. But Lori couldn't see the bright, pink title or the pictures on the cover. She just knew it was there.
Just as perfectly still she listened to the messages from the answering machine. Still no bloody sign of her brother. Some guy who thought they'd been more than a one-night stand. From Miles Straume, wondering when they were going to work together again.
Suddenly she jumped up, grabbed the keys and stumbled into her shoes as she ran out of her apartment.
It was raining outside. Her hair got plastered against her cheek; drops ran down her face like tears. Someone, Desmond had once told her that the rain was blue. And that blood was red. She faintly remembered that. She remembered it was beautiful.
Red and blue.
Red from his death. Blue from her tears.
----
Wendy had started to recognize the area they were in. And she knew they were close to camp. But right now it was night, and she and Karl were looking for place to make shelter.
"So, that radio tower," Wendy said at the exact same time as Karl said, "So, your people."
"Can't talk about it," Karl said, looking sheepishly at her.
"Then I can't talk about it either." Wendy was holding the torch, and picked up her pace so she was walking in front of him instead. She knew Karl wasn't going to like it, but she was going to return there. If that thing was still working, then maybe they could send out a transmission.
Maybe that was the place that French message had been sent out from. And if that was the case…
But either way, they needed hope.
"Stop!" Karl shouted suddenly.
"No, we need to find shelter –"
"Wendy, I mean it! Stop!" Karl didn't sound scared or angry, he sounded terrified.
Wendy whirled around and the torch's light flickered. "What is it?"
Karl was turning around, looking up. He put one finger to his lips. The universal sign of shut up.
Then she heard it.
"Is that a bug or –" A loud, screeching metallic clang interrupted her.
"RUN!" Karl screamed, grabbing her arm and dragging her with him. She dropped the torch on the ground, thinking for one split second about a forest fire, then all that was on her mind was to flee.
Wendy screamed as a tree was pulled up by its roots behind her. Dirt and grass got thrown in the air as they leaped over a rock.
Karl's hand was sweaty, slipping out of her grip and Wendy tried her hardest to hold on. Whatever it was (monster, the monster) pulled up another tree and it fell down in front of them.
Wendy just ran blindly, not thinking of which direction as she stumbled in between the trees. A branch scratched up her arm and where the hell was her gun?
She froze when she heard four shots ring out from somewhere far behind her. "Karl!" she gasped. She swung around but he was nowhere in sight. The strange noises were gone and all she could see were trees, trees and even more trees. "KARL!"
She found him in the morning.
The sun was shining so brightly, hurting her eyes as she stepped out from the shadows under the trees. She slipped over the stones, her whole body shaking and with the taste of blood still in her mouth. She had bitten her tongue when she'd fled.
The stones were smudged red. And the water poured down from the waterfall beautifully, an idyllic scene. But the blood was wrong, the blood leading down to behind the rock, half in the water, was wrong in every way.
"No, no, oh no, God, no."
Karl was broken.
"No, Karl, no."
She turned his face. And she had to bite her lip not to scream. His left eye – his left eye was nothing but a bloody mess. And his legs, they – they looked crushed. His arms, they were twisted above him and it wasn't right. Wrong, it was all wrong.
"No," she sobbed. "NO!"
And then she saw that he was still breathing.
She pulled him up in her arms. "I'm going to save you." She was going to bring him back. "You're going to be all right." His blood was so red. "No, no, don't go." She went, carrying him. "You're gonna be okay, gonna be all right." The water was so blue.
"Please."
--
Author's Notes: Had an English test from 8 am to 11 am, not used to that. But in that way I could study while writing this story and watching television without Swedish text. That was the upside. The point of that is that I love writing this story. So thank you guys for reading it, reviewing and for giving me awesome characters.
So, to recap the chapter: Lori's awesome and Ben likes to manipulate people.
I'm working on a little special project involving this, won't say much about it, but I think it's gonna be lovely.
Namaste.