Previously on LOST:

5.14

- The guys from the station "Swan" will drill the ground and accidentally hit a massive "pocket" of energy, and this will cause your plane, Oceanic flight 815, to fall on the island.

"And how exactly do you plan to destroy the energy?"

- The explosion of a hydrogen bomb.

5.15

- If we do as Faraday said, we will never get to the island, and Oceanic flight 815 will land in Los Angeles.

6.17

- Come on, Doc, what are you waiting for? Drop it!

- Doesn't look like Los Angeles Airport!

- We drilled the reservoir!

-Juliet! Jul!

- I'm holding you!

- James, I love you!

- Don't let go of your hand!

- I love you so much!

- Juliet! Not!

- Let's! Let's! Come on, you fucking bastard!

Burning dream

... the fire was burning down, and the pieces of ashes were smoldering. In this bonfire, James Ford burned the remnants of his life. The suit of "LaFleur - Head of Security" smoldered. As a man of practicality and business acumen, Sawyer would never have done that in everyday life, but now, to be honest, he was the least like himself. And the circumstances were ... extraordinary. He tore and threw, threw his head on the ground and raised his hands to the sky, shouting curses, indignation, for which all this was due to him. What did he do to deserve such punishment? More than a dozen times, when Jack and Kate were taken away from the "Swan", he pulled out, fell to the ground, and the stream wrapped his arms around the grass, and Jack lifted him, pulled, but he still did not give, and finally, clasping his left hand stone, I felt that tears would now flood. He pretended to listen to Kate. In this silvery blouse, she no longer resembled an adult, experienced woman, but resembled a girl, timid and dependent, which in essence she never was. In the third ten falls, Jack announced: we will arrange a halt.

Sawyer looked at the stream. He couldn't, he wasn't going to comprehend what was happening. This is the way to perceive what is happening. To behave, perceiving that what is happening cannot be, that this is not happening to me! Juliet... I did wrong. Everything happened so fast. How did it happen? This is an anguish, a terrible psychological anguish. They came back and destroyed everything! We had a wonderful and happy life for three years, and now the intruders showed up and put on a show called Detonate the fucking H-bomb! What, what's next. Who knows the answer? Let them speak.

But he was not destined to develop this idea. There was a rumble, Freckles and Doc froze at the same time, assuming a tense expression, and then the unimaginable began - large stones came to life and began to fall from the hillock on their own. There was a small earthquake. Doc staggered but held his ground, but James couldn't resist. But it was not necessary to remain in this position, it was necessary to run to a safe place. So they rushed into the jungle. Sawyer briskly, and Kate ran, covering her head with her hands. Jack made sure she wasn't hurt, and because of that, he fell behind. Finally the halt was announced.

James performed all the necessary actions for preparing a fire together with everyone, performed it mechanically, slowly began to comprehend what was happening. The three of them are here. The rest were not visible. No one bothered to talk to him. But apparently they know what's going to happen next. It can't be just like that. The plan didn't work, they're not at the LA airport anyway.

But, of course, nothing happened, only the night came into its own.

... Leaning against the bark of a tree, for the first time he really sobbed. He sobbed very hard, an irreparable loss took possession of his entire being. He grimaced in one big spasm. And he loved her! She changed him, brought him back to life, made him feel motivated to live! Every time he looked at her, he saw himself reflected in those blue eyes. And confident, and at the same time fragile, and cold-blooded, and patient, and smart! The practical embodiment of that crazy idea that he can be happy! Every time he was overcome with anger, it was enough to look at her, it was enough to please her. A second of bewilderment, and then a wide smile, still with some incredulity - and joy is expressed on her face, and I want to kiss her. Burrow into her golden curls, kiss her premature wrinkles. Porcelain beauty, hidden from the rest, coming to life only in the arms of a beloved man. He loved her with that same, strong love - not cloying, not conspicuous, not often mentioned. But regularly affecting, giving an inexhaustible source of vitality. For the sake of someone like her, it was necessary to perform feats and defeat villains, but a stable family life was also created. With some reservation, without the presence of younger family members - children. This was not rejected.

… James got up from the ground. Even this action gave him a headache. Shaking off this feeling from himself, he went to the burning fire. Along the way, he threw blades of grass into the flames, sadistically enjoying how they disappeared. But now it's time for something bigger. Something that carries a link to his past life. It was the overalls that had to suffer, which contained comprehensive information about his past life, which he would not return. Falling down, he began to look up at the sky. His blue eyes looked sadly at the sky. The short physical action that preceded the continuation of the listless, immobile lying had awakened a new flood of memories. He was afraid to sleep. because he hoped for a miracle; now, as in literature, something will come and save him! Falling asleep, he will lose some intangible connection with what is happening, and he will be a loser who ended the day with failure! Inflamed eyes, against their will, longed for sleep, and he hoped. In this world where the impossible happens, where the smoke monster uproots the trees, where huge stations are built, and people founded life on the island of death, everything is possible, and this gave a wild, crazy hope that Juliet, his Juliet is alive! But no, moments passed, and the miracle did not happen, only it grew darker in the sky, the tops of the trees swayed evenly in the night forest. As if on purpose, they lined up in two alleys, the moon shone exactly in the middle between them. She was ready to observe those who were under her gaze. There were no stars. There was no one to come up with names, no one to talk to. With an effort of dispersing will, James rolled back onto his back and looked at the moon, feeling himself and the sky as part of everything. In the dark contours of the lunar disk, he was looking for answers to questions that tormented him - how should he continue to live? Is there any hope? But there was no answer. Sleep began to overtake him, and James fell into the arms of Morpheus.

It's OK, dr. Shephard!

…I am regaining consciousness, but I am not in a hurry to open my eyes. I am experiencing throbbing pain in my left knee. Of all the sensations that the human body can feel, intense pain is the purest. Why? Because such pain displaces everything superfluous and superficial from the consciousness and makes you concentrate only on it, and this incomparably "cleanses". Pain is to the body what prayer is to the soul. Until now, I have not had to seriously think about religious ideas, but in vain. As it has recently become the custom, there is a first time for everything. No matter how I tried to convince myself of all this, I did not succeed very well.

I was still so cowardly, slowly opening my eyes. Only a slight howl of the wind could be heard. I had to make sense of what I, Jack Sheppard, had done. And I've done enough.

There was no certainty that the plan had succeeded. Recently, even the word "succeeded" in my case could sound only in an ironic connotation. Instead of the noise of airplane turbines and the Los Angeles airport, there was only solid ground, instead of city smog - pure island air, which you can not confuse with any other. But the cornerstone of the series of proofs was one thing - the permanence of memory. Just like before this fateful event with the bomb explosion, all the same fragments so important to me remained in my memory - about the plane crash, about the island, about Kate ... They brought joy, and at the same time sometimes forced me to "climb on wall." But still, it is something that is expensive.

The hope was that everything would return to normal, the once unsuccessful pages in my life would disappear, and life would be rewritten again. But again, as usual, I failed and let everyone down.

Perhaps I will now open my eyes and see in front of me a bunch of corpses in the middle of a pile of metal. Maybe Kate is on the ground a few feet away from me and needs help. These are just the versions that the imagination put forward. But there was only one certainty - nothing would save Juliet. Perhaps she could survive a fall into a bottomless well from a great height, combined with collisions with solid objects - this I, a madman, could admit. But no one will survive the explosion of a hydrogen bomb, being at the epicenter of the action. This made me uneasy, and only at that moment did I fully understand the extent of my delusion. Yes, I wanted to save us all from the situation in which we ended up together, but I knew, I knew that I wanted to save myself!

It's amazing how I didn't understand that what I'm doing is not changing the past, but the very past that should have happened! Back in 2004, I saw on a film of the mysterious Dharma Initiative a person telling about a certain Incident, but I could not even imagine that for a start I would find myself in this very past, and then I would show myself as the culprit of this incident!

Finally, I mustered up the courage to open my eyes. I saw a clear sky in front of me, on which there was not a cloud. Sitting on the ground and carefully looking around, I did not notice anything that could attract attention - the jungle, palm trees, and nothing more. Well... that's not what I was expecting to see. The imagination was already drawing our flight, Oceanic 815, our reality, where each of us would have other destinies not connected with the island. For some reason, in my stubbornness, I really did not take into account the fact that bringing potentially many people back to life (after all, the events on the island, according to the idea, were supposed to disappear!), At the same time, I also doomed Kate to further stay in handcuffs. And now she might... No, you don't even have to start talking about it!

I rise, not without the help of hands resting on the ground. The pain in the knee does not stop, but this is for the best - so me, mediocrity, and it is necessary. Now, first of all, you need to find the rest, make sure everything is in order with them, and only then take some action. All around there were only solid thickets, through which sometimes no light even broke through. Immediately I remembered - from far away - a memory - Faraday says to Kate: "Even the light here is strange!" I smile. Yes, something is only now that the right thoughts are visiting me, and a lot is remembered. Indeed, everyone is strong in hindsight, now this folk wisdom has been felt in full. He had no idea how to navigate in the forest, it was not clear what to do, but perhaps move in the direction where there are fewer thickets?

Much was unclear - where are they now, what year is it now? There were a lot of questions that could not be answered. A typical situation for this island. The realization of his own cretinism was followed by a feeling of grief for the loss of Juliet. I played, got carried away; blind confidence in my rightness blinded my eyes! When you get used to acutely feeling injustice, secretly considering others below yourself in this respect, hiding it from everyone, and sometimes you happen to "rise", it becomes too easy to get carried away! .. You don't even notice how you only start to harm. All my life I have striven to act without humiliating others, and only now have I realized that self-exaltation is basically the humiliation of others! At the same time, there was a vague realization that Sawyer would crave retribution, and retribution was coming. Losing a loved one - what could be harder? .. Become the culprit of someone's death is so hard, and this is someone's favorite. As a close relative...

Yes, Juliet first appeared before us as an enemy. And she is also a victim. I can't imagine her psychological trauma when you need to do something, but you can't! No one blames her, but she considered herself guilty, the blood of dead pregnant women remained on her hands! This went on for three years, during which she found herself in this situation, moreover against her will. Yes, she could say something cynically, but when you feel like this over and over again, when you want to cry, scream, hit things and you can't do anything, the girl probably wants to be cynical.

And so it happened that two loneliness found each other. Both wanted warmth, affection, motivation to live. And they found their haven, their safe haven here, on this island, hated by both, largely thanks to Juliet, who decided to stay here. For three years James and Juliet lived together until we arrived. We returned to the island with noble intentions, with one motivation - to save, and Juliet says to my face: "We should not have been saved." I have to say, I don't take it at all when people say that to me. I was born to help everyone out, it's in my blood! But I was not at all angry with this unfortunate woman, Juliet, the one I knew, the one that I once hugged! Once I saved her from death, and the realization of personal gratitude is that she saved me. And how did it all end for us? Collapse, despair, the collapse of all hopes. I can intellectually understand that the bomb just stopped the electromagnetic anomaly, which should not have been drilled, and Juliet was accidentally "captured" by the chains. I just can't come to terms with what a terrible fate fate has subjected her to, by my hands ... This is eating.

Soon the rows of trees thinned out, I quickened my pace, sometimes even began to run, until finally I reached the beach. I was completely lost and mentally prepared for the most terrible development of events, but there was nothing supernatural waiting for me there - only sand and the ocean. Putting his hands on his hips, he began to look around, and turning to the left, he saw something that plunged me into culture shock. On the one hand, something cleared up, but on the other hand, it turned out that the outcome of what happened was not at all what I expected. The fuselage of an Oceanic 815 aircraft appeared before me, and the beach was covered in debris from it. The people around were all doing something: someone was wandering around, collecting useful things, some were standing and sorting through something. The only person I could tell from that distance was myself. My alter-ego in a black suit approached, holding a bottle of water, a fair-haired girl with an unnaturally protruding belly, Claire. She sat in the shade on an armchair that had once been an armchair from an airplane, and a man in a suit handed her water and said something, from which the girl's embarrassed face first appeared incomprehension, and then a sincere smile, which turned into good-natured laughter.

It was amazing for me to look at it, I don't even know how to describe my feelings that "bifurcated" in me - on the one hand, for the first time after such an amount of time, I saw the one I wanted so much - Claire, and on the other hand, I experienced genuine shock from the fact that he saw himself. And here's what's curious - I didn't fall into any kind of faint, and didn't take me back. I just wanted to compare what has changed in me, and how that man from the beach, that Dr. Jack Sheppard, differs from me now. The man suddenly turned towards me. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see me (and when I came out of the jungle, I froze), but, apparently, he was looking into the distance, and, moreover, against the sun, and he did not manage to do it. He then raised his hand, apparently in greeting. I, since such things, held out my hand in response with a raised thumb. "It's OK, Dr. Sheppard," I said to myself as I walked back into the jungle.

Faterul conversation

And here I am. Only I am not this Jack Sheppard you know: a grown, tired, sinful man with sore eyes and gray hair at the temples, you know. These things are hard to remember. This one is a brown-eyed teenager with an open, trusting look; straightforward, but distrustful; loving puzzles, but not the intricacies of interpersonal relationships. He was impetuous at heart, although his traditional upbringing had instilled in him an admirably developed restraint. But now something is going wrong. The debugged mechanism fails. The teenager cries, shaking with sobs, as if trying to throw off the settled dirt from himself.

He barely remembers exactly how he ended up in his father's study: he was gently but persistently escorted there, his parents' conversations could still be heard from below: the alarmed voice of the mother, interspersed with the stern questioning tone of the father. For some reason, I don't want them to come, I want to prolong this moment of eavesdropping, non-participation in what is happening longer. So rise above the situation by standing at the door. Meanwhile, voices continue to be heard, and new voices appear in the conversation: uncertain, confused, breaking. Voices of teenagers.

"That's why, Mr. Sheppard, we brought him to you.

- I've heard about it before. Tell me how the conflict happened?

- Simon spoke badly about the teacher right in the lesson, and then Jack said that he was wrong, and then after the lessons, Simon suggested that Jack sort things out.

But it wasn't in class?

- Yes, after the lesson, everything was fine at the lesson.

- I hope you are responsible for your words?

- Yes.

— What happened next?

- Then we decided that in such a state ... he might not reach the house, and took care of him.

"We have nothing to do with this, Mr. Sheppard!

I decide to peek out the door. It is not very well seen: in our rather well-to-do living room, near the door, stands my father, Dr. Christian Sheppard, tall, in a blue shirt, he obscured his young interlocutors, and he himself can only be seen from the back. My mother is standing next to him, her hands are clasped, she wants to say something, she is torn, but she cannot make up her mind. Her father puts a hand on her shoulder, relieving her of her obligations.

- Okay, you can go.

"I don't look at how the guests are retreating, I'm just in a hurry to hide behind the massive door of my father's office again. I was told to sit there and keep my head down, and it didn't do for me to be seen peeping. I sit down on a chair. The chair is high, I don't even reach the floor with my feet, and I start to dangle my legs pointlessly, and then I get bored with it. And I feel that it is physically easier for me, and the tears are already disappearing. I sniff. I was to face, probably, strict questions, I already tuned in to it.

I look around. As they say, you don't know where you will find, where you will lose. By the will of fate, I "crossed the sacred border", I ended up where I should not have been. For the father's study was the place where, in any situation, it was strictly forbidden to enter other members of the household, except for him. There he spent his evenings, there he spent a long time alone, resting after difficult working days. This place was meant only for him. And now here I am. I see two massive bookcases - my father's library, two lamps with red shades. A table, chairs made of carved wood, and a TV set in the far corner. There are many different frames on the wall. I take a closer look. I can not understand anything, but the general conclusion suggests itself only one. These are letters. Certificates, diplomas, thanks. Everyone knows and respects Christian Sheppard. Dr. Sheppard is a great man. Wow, I had no idea how the respect of others looks in practice. A mini-bar is visible to the side of the wardrobe. I see a bottle. Curiosity takes over and I move closer. I stand on tiptoe. It is possible to read the inscription "whiskey". A hand reaches out to her, just to look. But then the door creaks, and the father enters.

Most boys see the ideal of a man in their father, they consider him an example to follow. That is why a huge burden fell on Jack - to be the son of a great father. In such cases, there is a choice. The first option is that you can "remain in the background", and remain in history only the son of a great man. The second option is you can make your family name a brand and surpass your creator. And I have always been grateful to my father for making every effort to improve me in the best possible way.

He stared at me as my hand reached for the minibar bottle again. Turning around, I felt a sense of confusion, familiar when I was in the company of my parent. What is it? I was ordered to sit silently and wait for his arrival, and I! Didn't even make it! He never raised his hand to me, never raised his voice. And yet, in his presence, I invariably became shy and felt like a fool, a worthless person, yielding to his masculinity.

"This… I didn't want anything like that!" I frantically rush to justify myself, pulling my hand away.

He looks hard. It is evident that he is upset, and even his pale yellow tie is bristling belligerently. What a thin and long nose he has, for some reason I had not looked closely before. Finally he spoke:

"And again, our head fails us, and not by size, but by stupidity," he finally utters. Shall we sit down?

I wipe my eyes.

- Why?

Well, it would be awkward to talk standing up.

I agree with him, having settled down on a high, not for boyish size, massive attribute of furniture.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?"

Here it is. Again, I feel like crying. Although the most acute phase has already passed.

"It's just… we decided to sort things out.

- Was it at school?

- No, we decided to sort things out after school ... away from school.

"That Simon…did he do something to you?"

- Not.

- Insulted you, ruined your thing? His voice is getting softer.

- Not.

I feel like a fool, because he obviously knows about the circumstances of what happened. But rightly so, I'm ready to drink the cup of humiliation to the bottom.

- He was wrong.

"Then why do your comrades say that you were the initiator of the fight?"

- He was wrong.

"They also claim that you struck first.

Finally I dare to say the reason.

He insulted Mrs. Bergland by saying that she was a fool. And she tries, teaches us! And then he said that he had influential parents, and she would not do anything to him! - my voice is shaking, I can imagine what it was like for her to feel, because teenagers feel everything acutely! "And he beat me… a little.

"Naturally, this could not cause such strong aggression," the father nods. - But what happened after? - I keep silent. "You couldn't deal with what happened and lashed out at him again," he finishes for me. "And here are the consequences," he concludes, nodding at my face.

He is silent for a long time, without telling me to pull myself together, which inflates the flame of anxiety in me even more. Finally, resting his hands on his hips, he asks a question.

"Well, why did you think you should intervene?"

- I felt injustice, and I know that it is wrong to do this!

- There is she, an adult woman, there is her family, there are other people, but why ... Damn, what a wrong time! - the conversation is interrupted by the creak of the front door, Christian walks away without finishing the sentence, whispers something to his mother and closes the door. After that, he returns to his chair and continues:

- I can talk to his parents so that they somehow influence him - good, you know that I have a certain value. But I won't do it. I won't because I don't think it's necessary.

- He is a scoundrel!

Jack, look at me. Why did you decide that this Simon is definitely a scoundrel? You don't know what reasons people have.

"I never do anything without a reason!"

What if he had a bad day today? What if she hurt him and you don't know anything about it? Maybe he mocks her, but in a difficult situation, he will be ready to go to heroism and save her life? You never know how people change in a difficult situation.

- It's not fair!

— What is justice? Everything has a different measure, son. You can't put everyone under the same brush. And justice is much more complex than they say about it, and than it is commonly understood. It has always been that way in history.

— That's not it!

From that moment on, both interlocutors had nothing to say, and it was the turn of silence to take the initiative into their own hands. We were silent for a long time, and finally the door opened a crack and my mother entered the room. In her hands was a tray on which were two cups of tea, and there were also butter biscuits. Glancing at my broken face, she put the tray on the table and left, but she closed the door hard. Finally the father said:

- Want? he asked with unaccustomed concern, and then defiantly took the muffin from the tray and began to eat, washing it down with tea. - Do you like cookies?

I was a little surprised, but pulled myself together.

"Yes…but you don't let me eat a lot of it."

- You don't need a lot. But indulge.

There is a strange trembling in the throat, it happens after tears. But I take provisions confidently. We sit for a very long time, but silence sometimes unites more than words. Christian is also silent. It's strange, I know that in my country it is customary to sometimes address parents by their first names and call them that in the presence of strangers, but this has never been done in our family. A parent is a parent, not a peer.

- Dad, why?

- What?

"Why did you say…" I swallow hastily, "that this has always happened in history?" And never understood justice?

"Ah… well, probably because that's not what they wanted. And most likely, justice, maybe they wanted it, but only misunderstood it.

"This is wrong," I take a long sip of tea, as the taste of muffin makes it difficult to concentrate on thoughts.

Christian stood up with his hands on his hips. His appearance became warlike again, I looked at him. Finally he asks me:

"Well, why don't you explain this to people?

- What?

"Well, if you think you understand justice well, why don't you start explaining it to others? Why don't you be persistent about it. How do you know what will come of it?

- But how? I'm not the President, I'm not the Pope, I'm not...

"You don't have to shout about it on every corner. But understand what is good and what is bad in the right way, and follow it. But in no case do not force others to become victims of yours - perhaps that has arisen! - delusions.

I had nothing to say. I hurriedly walked towards the exit. My father had already settled back into his chair, before I left, adding:

- And grab a tray, don't forget.

I immediately rushed to carry out this order, thinking about the conversation that had taken place. I went to the kitchen to wash the dishes. It was impossible to seriously believe that I, an ordinary child, would seriously correct injustice in my life, as I did today.

The mechanical work calmed me, and at the very end I stared at the white wall. And what, perhaps, I can do. No, it's impossible to believe it.

But I did not yet know that I was destined to always defend justice, for any reason, and always take on a lot. The most difficult time for me has not yet arrived at all - it was far away - and even before that time I still did not know what it was - when your beliefs begin to fail. When people who follow you suffer from your beliefs, and fate inflicts final defeat. But later it happened. The predestined was fulfilled. Fate did not change the way.

End of LaFleur

A harsh wind blows in his face, touching the sores on his face and thereby injuring him again. I wonder if it's so cold in contrast to the seventies? He is not a victim, but an executioner. Waves splash against the side of the boat, from where incessant groans are heard. He is not at all well, but his body warms up sweetly, feeling the usual, aching pain. Blond hair fluttering. Finally it's time to get started. He limps into the boat, taking a pistol out of his pocket along the way.

At the bottom of the boat lie his victims, bound and helpless. A man and a woman, both with dark hair, face up. The man desperately breaks out, his eyes darting around, and his face is somehow strange, unnaturally insane. A woman only contemplates the sky and does not cry with her last strength. But the execution does not promise to be long. It seems that their ruler has plans of a completely different nature.

- Get up! - he roughly pulls the man and leads him on a leash, pushing him forward.

James, no! the woman yells, calling out the blond's name. Her hair is black, and this is her natural color, as can be seen from the state of the roots. Near them, a purple wound flaunts in the temple area, and a fresh bruise stands out on the cheekbone. Now she closed her eyes as soon as a man approached her.

- Shut up, Kate! - addresses her by name, and without adding anything, silently picking up his foot, he turns her over with one throw, unexpectedly easily. "Let's go," he pushes his second victim and puts him on the ground with a powerful kick to the head. He stifledly sniffs, poking his chin

"You filthy creature!" I want you to know!

"Sawyer, I'm sorry… for me.

"I'll kill you first, you vile brat!" Damned hero! And I don't want you to be a hero, so you're the first to die!

James presses his heavy boot on his chest. He still somehow quietly and monotonously wheezes, then there is a stir in the boat. James pulls the victim closer, and kicks him backwards on the boat. The pressure builds, finally Jack can't help it and groans.

- This is for you for me. - He puts the opponent on all fours. And he continues: - And this is for her.

He comes to the water's edge, holds him by the neck and lowers his head down, and leaves him in this position. Then he goes after his other prey.

The girl is on her knees, her eyes are imploring, her hands are tied. The jacket is covered in sand, the knees of the trousers are full of holes. James unties her mouth.

— Speak!

"James, I'm sorry, it's all my fault." It was not necessary…

— You and your boyfriend Jack arranged it. You took everything I held dear from me. You are unworthy of life.

Jack! Don't kill him! I'll do whatever you want right now, just don't kill me!

"Don't worry, you'll soon be reunited with him in hell." If he is, the air around him takes on an unhealthy dark tint, but the man does not stop talking. - Don't care though. Anyway, life is over. For me. Farewell, Kate.

- Nooo! ..

Wide brushes of hardened hands close on her defenseless neck, and then they drag Kate there, to the water. The executor looks at them, hands on hips, euphoric inside him. Suddenly, on the shore, very close, you can hear breathing. James turns around. And he is dumbfounded, realizing who it is in front of him. Sawyer appears before him.

The new enemy looks ominous, dressed in a purple T-shirt, he moves in such a way that it seems that he is not walking, but swimming towards. James was taken aback, speechless, whatever you want to call it. Seeing yourself is not a sight for the faint of heart. The doppelgänger looked around. He has an unnaturally aggressive face, his neck is red; and around him, it seems, some kind of dark aura is concentrated.

Finally, James caught himself and backed away in fright, but it wasn't there, the enemy overtook him, catching up with lightning speed and knocking him to the ground with one resounding blow of his fist. Two bodies are still lying with their heads hanging into the water, and the aggressor develops an attack:

"Where did you ride so fast, cowboy?" - he sits on the victim and begins to strangle her with both hands! - his face is scary, he just forces you to look at yourself. His face is scary, one eye squinted, and his hands continue to press.

- I'll deceive you! his own voice.

He tries to remove these hands from himself, but it turns out very badly.

- Who are you, your mother?! You got? You got? -he is scary, his face looks like a peeled shell. - It didn't work! Because you are nobody! You got what you wanted! You killed her!

Finally, James, having collected himself, releases the pressure a little, this is enough to hoarse with the last of his strength:

- Do not do this!

- Don't do it? Everyone must be killed, everyone must be sent to the next world, all the sons of bitches who destroy other people's lives! Which are just there!

- Who are you?

"LaFleur, you are gone!" I am your true being! James Ford!

It seems that this is all, this is the end, the heart is working at a frantic pace. A carousel of all the colors of the rainbow flashes before your eyes, and then everything darkens - and enlightenment comes.

There is none of this, the sinister figure disappears somewhere, only James still lies on the ground and convulsively inhales the air. His face is distorted and insane. Finally, he sits down on the ground, looking around in a haunted manner. Now it is surrounded by trees and grass. There are leaves next to him, he scatters them. He grabs his head to come to his senses. But this takes time.

They must have traveled back in time, this time to the future or the past. Or maybe the bomb went off. What if it is? But why then did he remember everything that happened to him? Why did he still remember her and these memories tormented his soul? He could not. Couldn't save her.

Sawyer got up from the ground. He decided to run headlong, not wanting to stay here for another second. It was necessary to find this cursed place, the construction site of the Lebed station. Find and see it now with your own eyes.

If everything had happened a little earlier, then perhaps she would have been alive! She wouldn't be in that damn hole! What he saw was no accident. This is a reminder to him that he could not save her. Her words still echoed in his ears. About how she loves him and will always be with him, and they will never be separated. And now it can't be returned. The pitiful hope that he could be happy was scattered like a handful of dust in the wind.

Sawyer looked around and, on a whim, went looking for it. He knew this island well, so he was sure that he could find this place. And his perseverance was rewarded - after just a few minutes of running, he found what he was looking for.

Here it is, the construction site, there was no doubt about it. But what is it? Everything around is exactly the same overgrown with trees and grass. There was no well with a pile of metal. In a daze, James moved closer, his legs carrying him; and he was completely in a state of detachment

Awakening came instantly. Something clanged under his heavy boot. Apparently it was a metallic sound. James crouched down and began digging by hand. But he did not have to dig for a long time. Looking closely, he saw a piece of metal located in the ground itself. It has already become clear what kind of object it is - the manhole cover from the Lebed station.

It didn't work. The explosion of the fucking H-bomb didn't change anything. It didn't matter what time it was. Luke was there. Electromagnetic energy continued to accumulate every 108 minutes, and people continued to be inside and press the button. Only Juliet died. She died for nothing, for the sake of believing that the surgeon's plan would succeed. James felt another wave of hatred for Jack. Only one desire completely prevailed over him - to kill. Kill this bastard, by whose mercy he lost his beloved. And for this he had to be found. All the hatred, all the energy got its direction. The verdict was passed.

James got up, and headlong rushed to the search.

The evening in Dharmaville

It was in Dharmovilla, on a warm summer evening; the working shift of the bulk of the people had already come to an end, and by that time they, satisfied with life, had already gone to their cozy houses. Some of them sat silently on the porch, they inhaled the island air with full breasts. The sunset beckoned them. Which looked incomparably good in this part of the island. It seemed that those who built the village had foreseen everything, even that. The ideal location, convenience of life and the beauty of nature around created a feeling of something native. You were imbued with this place and already rightfully considered it your home. A closed society existed according to its own laws. Here, each individual little man did not decide, in essence, anything, but still he was in sight, and this was the right setting. Being in the public eye, you had to be aware of your actions, and this spurred you to do something significant and really influenced the life of a small community.

Two years ago. How could James think, when Horace let them stay, that he would love this place? Here he found peace, here he found what he could not even dream of in his former life. What was in his life before that? Alcohol, women, scams. The same as nothing. At one time, James came to the island with a heavy, very heavy sense of guilt for the murder of a person who did nothing to him, one that he remembered every time as if anew - nothing can be changed, and somehow the guilt can be atoned for. And how many already on this island did he happen to take their lives? But time heals. It heals any wounds, as well as scars heal on the body. There, in the other world that he left, they always knew this, and, probably, for this purpose they came up with the definition of "statute of limitations" for crimes. He knew this for sure, because these memories, memories of his deeds, eventually ceased to torment him. James didn't want to remember it. For now, he was fine with it. In the Darmov team, he had a prestigious job, and in general, he enjoyed the incredible respect of the people around him.

Yes, sometimes he thought about whether Locke would return and do what he intended. But time passed, no one came, and life became better - and gradually these memories became a passed stage, as if clothes were worn out.

In the Dharma Initiative, James felt like a living person, accepted the fact of his existence. It even affected him. He obviously became calmer, more balanced, ceasing to pretend to be a scoundrel. He also discovered personal happiness for himself. Of course, when he thought so, he meant her.

How could James have imagined that they would become so close? At first, she was for him the one that replaced Kate, became an anesthesia, a solace for a bleeding wound. At first, he could not understand how he felt for her. But there was confidence - no matter how many women he had before, he had never met such an amazing one as Jules. And confident, and at the same time fragile, and cold-blooded, and patient, and smart! The practical embodiment of that crazy idea that he can be happy! Every time he was overcome with anger, it was enough to look at her, it was enough to please her. A second of bewilderment, and then a wide smile, still with some incredulity - and joy is expressed on her face, and I want to kiss her. Burrow into her golden curls, kiss her premature wrinkles. Porcelain beauty, hidden from the rest, coming to life only in the arms of a beloved man. He loved her with that same, strong love - not cloying, not conspicuous, not often mentioned. But regularly affecting, giving an inexhaustible source of vitality.

While Sawyer was sitting on the porch thinking, a gentle hand fell on his shoulder. She looked at him smiling. Every time he looked at her, he saw himself reflected in those blue eyes.

- Do you like sunsets? she asked.

Sawyer smiled even wider.

- Yes, I remember.

- About what, if not a secret? Juliet sat down next to him.

"Well, you, me, this job, this organization, which is like from a science fiction novel," James caught himself on the fact that he never dreamed of getting from life what he has now.

"Who would have thought that we would find all this on the island? Juliet tapped superstitiously on the wooden wall of the house.

James decided to ask her about the most important thing.

"Remember when I asked you to stay and watch my back? Remember how you agreed to stay?

Juliet smiled. How vulnerable, funny and sweet he was at that moment. Of course she remembered it. If only he knew how she felt about him. And she loved him. She loved more than her life, more than anything she had. What was her. And nothing stopped her from continuing to love him. And then absurd thoughts began to creep in. She began to feel like she might lose him. She drove these thoughts away from her, and soon the clouds dissipated, and everything was fine. She understood that all these fears were absurd and an obsession, but she could not get rid of the thought that they were about to part. She rejected it, because James was the most expensive thing in her life.

- Of course, I am very glad that I did not get into this submarine then, and that you persuaded me to stay.

A gang of children ran from a neighboring house. Juliet looked at them blankly and thought how nice it would be for the two of them to have a baby. James, in turn, caught the train of her thoughts and decided to start talking about a sensitive topic.

"You know, maybe we could have the same tomboy," he said, overcoming his timidity.

-Would you like that?

- It's a difficult question.

Juliet smiled indescribably slyly, looking at James, and then answered:

- Definitely, he would be the most active here.

A short laugh, and then it became clear that since she was joking, it meant that cats were scratching her soul. Something had to be done about this.

Juliet thought and thought and answered seriously:

"Yes, you know, you would be a great father.

- Yes, what's the problem, we can cut off the little one right now! James answered jokingly, only wanting to cheer her up.

He succeeded. Jules smiled broadly, then continued seriously.

"You know, we can't raise children on this island. If we could get out...

James held her close. Juliet leaned silently against his stone chest. He stroked her hair, comforting her, and he himself thought - yes, he is ready for it. Mentally, he is mature enough to be a father. He would give this child the love that his daughter, Clementine, did not receive at one time. He was willing to do anything to make Jules feel good with him.

"Promise me," he said to her. "Promise me that no matter what, you will never leave me.

Juliet silently hugged and kissed him. She heard what she wanted to hear, which was her whole being.

"I love you, James.

And now he was ready to utter those words that he had not uttered to any woman in his life - but had never put all of himself into them. And I wasn't going to tell anyone else.

"I love you too, dear.

Goodbye handcuffs

Kate Austin stands in front of the wreckage. All the same, pleasing to the eye, despite the haggard look. She's wearing a silver blouse, and she puts her hand up to her ponytail and shakes it out. Obviously she is confused. And there is why. Right in front of her, a piece of metal stuck into the ground, you can step a little carelessly - and you will get hurt on it, and the trousers will not save you. And she is perplexed because the fragment is exactly the same as what remained after the plane crash.

The girl remembered everything that happened. She remembered the swift rush from the station, the night by the fire, the feeling of undivided despair that had overcome her and the two men who were also with her. In the morning she found no one, and was going to look around and figure out what to do next. There was a bamboo grove all around, that's where she wandered. Kate turned around and continued on her way.

What was it? We have already experienced time travel. So are we really in the time when our plane crashed? Kate began to reason. That's funny. Now we have our "twins". But there are times when confronting your past is damned undesirable.

Soon the trees became more "leafy", but the landscape as a whole remained yellow-green. And then another terrible discovery awaited her - right in front of her, another confirmation of this version was found. Dead passenger. The poor fellow was lying on a branch, unnaturally twisting his arm. She managed to suppress a scream, but she could not hold a convulsive breath. And she moved away from here, wherever her eyes look.

It seems that we really moved at this time, she thought. And how do we know what we will do in it then? We have already changed something in the 77th, so it turns out, we will change now? That's what I would like an answer to. And if anyone knows what's going on at all, it's Jack. And he left. However, the absence of Sawyer disturbed her no less, if not more.

Suddenly there was a strange sound. Kate was just walking through the bushes of an unfamiliar tree, and considered it good to duck. She settled herself comfortably, squatting down and clutching the branches with her hands, but still making a lot of noise. The leaves moved back behind her. Good! She took cover. In front of her was an open field. And then the action began.

The sound repeated again. It was poignant, like in science fiction films. There was clearly some kind of approach, and then the sound of a flash - and suddenly, in a clearing that had hitherto been empty, a moment later, a man appeared out of nowhere.

There was something strange, absurd in what was observed. But, as it happened not for the first time, there is a first time for everything. It was a woman in a shirt, with her hair down, and after peering briefly, she suddenly realized who she saw in front of her. Kate was in front of her.

Only it was a living, real Kate, and not a wax doll, not a mirage and not an obsession. And if the real Kate is here, the next thought arose, then who am I? And how real am I? I wanted to pinch myself, but I was afraid to give myself away.

I had to keep watching.

Kate was excited, but not for long. She was wearing a simple shirt, her eyes were very haunted, and it was soon discovered that she had handcuffs on her wrists! Convulsively, she leaned over and crouched on the ground. "She is looking for the key," a saving thought flashed through the observer. In fact, for a long time I wanted to react emotionally, but only the prospect of betraying myself was even more terrible, and soon I managed to calm myself down. She did not pay attention to her numb legs - there were more important things to do.

Her protégé soon got up, shrugged her shoulders, wanting to take off her shirt, but it was difficult to do this while in handcuffs, and she stamped her foot, and then kicked something angrily.

Kate pulled herself together, took a deep, deep breath and held her breath, felt her muscles—and then pinched her fingers together, only bringing them all together. Of course, the former Sunday School student had no intention of being baptized—there was a practical purpose. Still holding her breath, she squeezed the veins in the area of her elbow with concentrated fingers. All this, again, the spectator noted to herself, could be seen in the smallest detail. She looked back at Kate's face. She has a completely different face - the wounds after the accident, the look of a fugitive. The look of a woman who did not know a good relationship from men. In a couple of seconds, both forearms noticeably swelled, it was noticeable even through the shirt.

She still does not know anything about what will happen to her, does not know about her future motherhood, does not realize that she will return here. But soon one life-affecting event will happen to her, which she does not suspect - the fugitive will meet Jack! .. And this Kate, a despicable criminal, does not even know who he is! Jack doesn't know who she is. Suddenly, a multitude of tiny, barely noticeable memories pierced her, and mechanically a hand shot up to her neck, but it was impossible to make noise. Fortunately, the fugitive did not hear her.

Soon she suppressed the cry and stopped, "uncorking" the veins back. Strange, because Kate clearly remembered that she got rid of the handcuffs while still on the plane. I wonder what kind of things memory can do to us. But maybe something and do not need to remember? None of this stuck in Kate's head, and she looked at what was happening as if for the first time. For her, being on the island began with meeting Jack when he needed her help. She remembered that touching moment more than once, and these memories made her heart skip and beat more often.

Once again, the same thing began, only the handcuffs now slipped a little, again she squeezed the veins, this time also obviously, pushing the radius bones apart. And so, slowly, she "moved" closer and closer to her fingers, breathing and holding back a cry, trying again. The legs from the long observation were already completely numb, and finally all the manipulations came to an end.

After a couple of seconds, Kate shook off the handcuffs, which fell with a ringing, as if parting clang, and with tired relief raised her wounded palms to her face, starting to work with her brushes. The fingers were tired, and now they were waiting for a little massage. However, work will soon be waiting for them... Leaning down, she picked up from the ground the object that she had kicked just now - it turned out to be a bottle of water with the inscription Oceanic. Nice deal from the airline. She took off her outer clothing and underneath was a sleeveless blouse that bared her shoulders. And greedily began to drink water, resting her left hand on her side.

Well, the fugitive was well versed in the natural functions of the body. The fleeting joy on her freckled face changed again to harassment. And she put on the shirt again. For a long, very long time she stood, not daring to go somewhere, moving somewhere and stopping. But soon, common sense must have prevailed, and the girl, after looking closely, unmistakably headed in a certain direction, and a minute later disappeared, as if she had not been there.

Kate Austen stepped out of the bushes, shaking her legs, because a woman's constitution does not involve long squatting, and then thought about what she had just seen.

Yes, everything was like that, and not otherwise. And now she had the opportunity to see it from the side. How life can change when you meet your man! In part, I even began to envy that girl. She has yet to meet Jack, to help him.

Suddenly another thought struck her. That's right, help Jack! How funny it is when you have to communicate with people! In fact, he needs help all the time, always! And Kate always helped him. He needs help even now. He made a terrible mistake, ruined human life. And now, of course, Sawyer will want payback for what happened to Juliet! And it was not somewhere and once, it is already what is happening now! Jack had to be found first. And for that, you had to follow the trail. Deciding that if you need to find at least someone, then you need to start with the Swan bunker, Kate set to work. Kate knew how to navigate the jungle perfectly, so after looking around a bit, she unmistakably followed the trail. I went, and then, having already understood where to go, I ran. The ponytail of her hair swayed in time with her run.

Retribution

If everything had happened a little earlier, she would have been alive! She wouldn't have to fall into that damn hole! Her words echoed in James' head. How she loves him and will always be with him. They vowed to each other not to leave. And now she left him! But now it didn't matter anymore.

The rest of the people did not interest him, what difference does it make who dies and who survives. They are already dead, at least he is.

Damn bastard, scoundrel, unfortunate man! He can't do anything, he doesn't understand what, how and why to do it, but he fancies himself a leader! It is people like him who cause all disasters! Claimed to be a leader! And everyone follows him - for what?! They are ready to do whatever he says! Why, why? Juliet was going to stop him, but why did she change her mind? If only he could not give her a reason, not arouse suspicion, not cast glances at Kate! She wouldn't loosen her hand!

Yes, it was only good to moan about it!

That's what James thought as he raced through the jungle at the speed of light.

James didn't want an explanation, that wasn't what he wanted at all. He understood one thing. "She was mine." Here is what they said. It's what caused the whole bomb thing to happen. All that, because of which everyone should obey this son of a bitch and meekly follow him! Let him answer!

His legs carried him on their own, and thoughts continued to appear.

He can easily play with other people's lives. If he is wrong, there will be an explosion of a hydrogen bomb. But he doesn't care! It is important for him that everything is as he wants!

Doomed and dejectedly I walked. As luck would have it, the temperature was not "evil", but quite pleasant. The sun had temporarily disappeared, handing over the reins of sole rule to a fresh breeze, and the descending branches of the trees I met swayed affably.

I was not brought up in the Christian tradition, but I had some cultural ideas. And because of this, I clearly had an association - this is my Gethsemane garden. It definitely was. And the punishment that awaits me will be absolutely on the case, on the merits. I wanted to and could not imagine what a terrible death Juliet died. How her fall symbolized her whole life. She fell uncontrollably, and anyone she could desperately grab onto could only die with her. Probably, her future was built in these three years. But such is the law of the pit - no matter how much you climbed - you will fall in a moment. There is no point in running away, there is no point in figuring out what to do. A person who has lost a loved one is capable of much, and if that person is Sawyer, then things are very bad. But as long as there is nothing, there is nothing to worry about. Retribution could come upon me suddenly. Like climbing uphill on an excursion - such a climb ends suddenly, no one can believe in this guide yet, and after the next turn at an unpredictable moment - the end of the road. I guessed that somewhere this would happen to me. And retribution was not long in coming.

I saw him. And I can say that it was better to die in the dark, to receive a mortal blow in the back or in the chest, from an enemy or from a friend, than to see such a look. The look of the possessed. And he has his right.

He lunged at me, knocking me to the ground in an instant. Rapid whirlwind.

A portion of anger, despair, impotence - all this Sawyer put into his first blow. He felt his knuckles dig into Jack's hard forehead. A tear appeared on his eyebrow, from which blood flowed. Immediately with the other hand, Sawyer checked the jaw of the enemy for strength. Painful, his knuckles shattered, the desperate avenger continued to strike right and left, one after the other... The fists shook Doc's head with a force that James had never suspected of himself. He put everything into the blows - and despair, and pain for the loss of Juliet, and annoyance at her for choosing to side with Doc, and a lingering sense of his own guilt ...

-Bastard, I want you to remember! Remembered me! What have you done to her! Why didn't you stop! Your bomb explosion didn't change anything! Do you feel? - hitting his knee in the solar plexus, now James connected his legs. -You damned hero! And I hate heroes, you understand me?

That seems to be it. That's death - I had time to think in the intervals between blows. Not heroic, of course. This is a reward.

— Sawyer!

Running out of the jungle, Kate clung to James's arm, preventing him from delivering another, and quite likely, fatal blow, and then gently but persistently pulled him aside.

- Enough! You will kill him!

But now there was no strength inside. He buried his face in her neck and burst into tears. All the emotions that spilled out now manifested themselves in tears. He could no longer hide his feelings.

- She's gone, no! She's gone! he howled.

Looking at him, Kate also burst into tears. After all, she was so sorry for him, so sorry! She could not accept the emotional trauma that overcame him! She held Sawyer even tighter, though she knew she couldn't replace Juliet for him. Kate could only whisper:

"I'm sorry, James, I'm sorry."

When viewed from above, it was noticeable what was located below, in the clearing - a young woman and two men a little older than her. She hugged one, the other lay unconscious. The silence was punctuated only by soft sobs. And then the woman raised her face, distorted by a grimace of pain and despair, and let out a cry, piercing and lengthy. And this scream was perhaps the most terrible thing that happened below.

In timelesness

-Dude! Hugo exclaimed.

He sat leaning against a tree, his hands tightly clasping his ears. Finally, realizing that the threat had passed, the fat man relaxed.

- What was it? he addressed his question to Jin bustling around beside him.

"Time travel," said the Korean.

— How do you know? Hugo frowned in disbelief.

- Flash Light. Noise in my ears. This has happened to me before," Jin replied in short, monotonous phrases. Then he couldn't help but raise his voice. Help me here, Hurley!

With some difficulty, leaning on a branch, Hugo Reyes stood up. On his voluminous overalls, this was indeed his nickname, which everyone used to call him in life - Hurley. The aforementioned overalls contained his solid dimensions, and upon arrival here, his long hair was prudently laid in a ponytail. More recently, he, being the chef of the Dharma Initiative, prepared (according to his own signature recipe) garlic sauce. In those moments when he had to cook food for someone other than himself, Hugo felt like never before, in demand. Just yesterday, he "squeezed" a record of Geronimo Jackson from one of the cleaners, because he assumed that over time it would become a rare thing. But all that was yesterday, and today, right now, the piercing wind was unpleasantly penetrating through the overalls, and the situation was worse than ever.

The three of them were not near the firefight near the Lebed station, they remained waiting nearby. Now it was completely unclear where their friends were, and the lack of a van completely deprived them of the freedom of maneuver. Hurley was terrified. He prayed for it to end. About an hour later, Jin got worried and decided to find the others, but then the earth began to tremble, so it was not up to it, and the physical condition of the Arab did not allow everyone to move together. In such a situation, there was no time for searching. Finally, they spent the night like that, lighting a fire by dusk. Already next, in the darkness of the night, they were overtaken by the same movement. Immediately it became noticeably lighter, it was clearly daytime. And now it became noticeably brighter, it was clearly day, but now only the heavens knew what time they were now. But the feeling that he is part of the team and together they overcome difficulties inspired him.

Said did his best to hold on, tried to pretend that everything was fine, but he did it very mediocrely. The two of them took their friend, Jin by the arms, Hurley by the legs, and helped him into a comfortable position, if any position could be called comfortable for a person with internal bleeding. Immediately the Korean said:

— Hurley, you stay with Sayid. And I'll find Jack.

"Ha, and where will you find our guys?" If you forgot, I'll remind you - we're lost! The ex-chef folded his arms across his chest.

"Said needs a doctor, he won't stay like this for long!" the Korean said. I'll go to the beach - he pointed in the direction where the trees looked noticeably rarer. From there we will orient ourselves. And then ... - Jin did not finish, as a heart-rending scream cut through the jungle, from which both men flinched, and then looked at each other. There was no doubt that it was necessary to go there. Busily, Jin pulled out a pistol from his bosom.

"You," he said, thrusting a weapon into the fat man's hand. I'll be back soon!

And without waiting for an answer, the swift-footed Asian raced off in an unknown direction. By the way, he also had the same overalls, only his real name was embroidered, and not a nickname. Well, the sizes were not comparable.

Hurley fearfully placed the weapon under the tree. In fact, deep down he was even pleased to be in this situation. He felt himself in a team, overcoming difficulties together with the people, and what else is needed for happiness? So what, sometimes inexplicable things happen! But you don't have to go to work, and there are no bosses over you. It was cool.

But cautious optimism dissipated, one had only to look at Said. He lay stretched out on the ground with his arms stretched along his body, coughing painfully. Friends have already changed several bandages for him, as the wound was bleeding terribly. And the last bandage has already completely dried up, causing some disgust when looking at it. Hurley decided to put something soft under his head, but didn't decide what. In indecision, he looked at his jumpsuit, but suddenly Sayid woke up, accompanying his regaining consciousness with a fit of coughing up blood.

— Dude! Hurley covered his mouth.

- Where are we? said the Arab hoarsely, making no attempt, however, to rise.

We are... on an island. Jack's plan didn't work.

- When I die ... - a melancholic answer followed this, - what do you think will happen to me?

- Do not think about it. Everything will be fine, friend.

"I have tortured more people than I can remember. I killed. Wherever I go—Said's monologue paused because of another bout of coughing—I don't think anything good awaits me there.

- Everything is formed. Try not to speak.

But the remark was addressed to the void, the addressee lost consciousness again. Paleness was visible even through his swarthy skin. Hugo was very annoyed, and he sat dejectedly next to the person in whom he recognized his friend, who always treated him well ... Why is there always so many deaths near him? It was very sad.

Suddenly there was a rustle behind him. Hurley looked around fearfully. It seemed? Like yes.

But the rustling began to be heard more clearly.

- Jin? The hesitant voice went unanswered.

People, perhaps, should have been afraid, only the fat man knew that any devilry is possible on this island. Still, a weapon would inspire confidence. And so Hurley quickly ran to the secret stash, covered the gun with his body, and then, awkwardly grabbing the weapon with both hands, still cocked the trigger.

I have a gun! And I can shoot! He grabbed the barrel in his right hand.

He stood in this position, sticking out a gun that looked too caricatured in his hand. You could try to look out for the source of the sounds, but that's the thing, no one was visible! The noises, meanwhile, appeared in front, then appeared behind, then disappeared, then reappeared, and Reyes kept spinning in all directions. Finally, it began to seem to him that he was losing his mind and hearing some whispers ... But then everything calmed down, and a raspy voice three steps behind him made Hurley flinch.

- Hello, Hugo.

Turning slowly and reluctantly, he saw that a stranger was standing in front of him - a gray-bearded man in a yellow cloak. Hurley had never met him before.

- Dude, who are you? The gun went down on its own.

My name is Kelvin.

Mega-number

"Ah, how my head hurts… Apparently, the explosion was quite powerful. What explosion? But what happened? I don't think I'm at the police station anymore. I was declared crazy, so I'm definitely not there. But where? Damn, you'll have to open your eyes and find out. If only not among some savages, if only there was food, I was so hungry!

... When the numbers on the gas meter of the red Camaro flashed the same set of numbers, it seemed like the first wake-up call. Their unfortunate contemplator rushed headlong and ran away from the garage on his own two feet, not listening to his father's exhortations. Having more or less calmed down, I decided to come to the market and buy food for dinner. And suddenly... he saw his dead friend! He saw Charlie. But what happened next?

One, two, three, and… some bright room? White wallpaper, a barred window, a small bed with an uncomfortable mattress and that's it. Some familiar place. Wait, is that Santa Rosa?! Not savages, already something. True, the food is not very tasty, but it will do. I wonder what time it is? And anyway, what is the number? There is no clock anywhere, you need to get out. If this is the same room, then go straight and left to the rest room, there is a clock, as I remember now. Nothing changed".

Everything here was exactly the same, nothing had changed since Hugo first came here. Only this time, straight from the police station. The same gowns on doctors, all the same patients. Here is Erwin, disheveled, disheveled, communicating with aliens. And here is Leonard, who repeats, as usual, the same numbers. Yes, sorry for the poor things, why do they live like this? And doctors have to look at it every day and sympathize. They are also out of luck.

"And here is the same rest room. On the clock 16:23. So now it's just free time. Oh, and there is a mirror. Still the same handsome man with long fluffy hair and a plaid shirt. So, we looked and that's enough, you need to come to your senses, but first you should have asked about the date!

- Hello, um, miss, - he looked at the nurse's badge, - Coldman. I'm Hugo Reyes.

- Hello, Hugo. What can be useful?

- Could you answer me one unusual question? I think I completely forgot what date it is today. Can you tell me the full date please?

-Oh sure. Today is September 22, 2005, 21st century. So will it suit you?

"Ha, thanks for the century, it helped a lot," he laughed a little, winking at his interlocutor.

- You're welcome, Hugo - Anything else? She briefly nodded her head at him and moved on down the corridor.

At first, I wanted to simply answer: "No, nothing," but my eyes fell on the poor fellow in a blue sweater. Lenny. We had to help him.

Yes, pen and paper. I…uh…want to draw.

- If you need to paint, maybe bring paint ...

- Not! he raised his voice. I want to... make a sketch. Only with a pen!

- Okay. Sister Coleman immediately responded coldly, as if offended in the best of feelings. You will have a pen.

- Thank you.

Yes, September 22nd. It's the same day our plane crashed on the island! Wow, this is a coincidence. Which is already in the account. First there were numbers, then Anna Lucia's acquaintance turned out to be a policeman. Too many disturbing coincidences today. Well, now at least I know something. And now I'll look around, try to relax, maybe I'll find out something else. "

Finally a pen and a sheet of paper were brought.

— All the same faces, all the same objects. Seems like he misses all this stuff so much. Maybe I'm just used to following a fruit diet. It's Leonard Simms, the one who repeats the numbers from the island. How strange it all is. How can he know them? We must approach him. But it's useless…" Hurley felt immensely alone.

"What is wrong with them? Maybe try to find out, because scientific discoveries were also made randomly? What is going on? Hugo wrote out these six numbers in a row. There was no clarity. Well, the fact that they add up to 108 was no secret. But what to do with them next? Maybe split it into two piles? After some time, the landscape sheet over a meaningless heap of numbers was filled with a clear equality "4 + 8 + 42 = 15 + 16 + 23". Equality happened. But what's next? Hugo tugged at his hair thoughtfully. He was always bad at homework. But this monotonous work was distracting, and what else was there to do, how to overcome boredom?

Maybe divide the numbers into three parts? After some time, continuing to recall school arithmetic, he himself came to the conclusion that this was impossible to do.

Well, what if ... this is a numeric and alphabetic cipher together. Six numbers. Like the Oceanic Six. What nonsense? But after all, they were saved and really six. Although Aaron was not on board the plane for obvious reasons. OK. "Don't lose your mind!" - he bit himself.

"The dudes from Dharma knocked out these numbers on the hatch for a reason. What if they signify or name something? Stop!". Hurley, struck by a sudden idea, turned the paper over to its blank side and scribbled the word DHARMA in a flourish. Under each letter of the English alphabet, he smallly signed its serial number. The result was a sequence: "4 8 1 18 13 1". The first two serial numbers of the letters of the name of the scientific organization completely coincided with the numbers, and what is this, a joke? But then the number "fifteen" did not emerge.

Something in the calculations was wrong, there was something else.

Hurley drummed his fingers on the table, even tugged at his curls a little to get his brains moving, but it didn't work. There was nowhere to expect help, I had to solve the riddle myself. And who knows, maybe it will help people? - the newly discovered discoverer looked around, covering his calculations with his elbow.

And Lenny ... Still, this is some kind of, but a familiar person. Should have talked to him. Maybe this time he will pay attention to the interlocutor? Maybe even manage to get him out of this state? Hugo did not want to know the answers, as he managed to convince himself that there were none. Up to a certain point, he was inclined to believe that the numbers were really a coincidence. But, as has been the case recently, everything happened for the first time. Self-deception happened for the first time. And the disappointment in self-deception that befell Hurley, too ...

Sloppy appearance, the same blue sweater, glasses glued at the bridge of the nose - this is what Hugo Leonard remembered. This time he was in the same deplorable state.

"Hey Leni, how are you?" Hurley walked over to the table where Simms was sitting, took a chair and sat down.

Unfortunately, the poor fellow predictably did not respond, his fingers just continued to carry out their usual work. Red and black circles fell into round cells, and after the accumulation of a critical mass, they were thrown back onto the table with a decisive effort.

- Hey, can you hear me? Everything is fine? He took his right hand.

There was no response, but this could not confuse Hugo.

"Four, eight, fifteen, sixteen, twenty-ah-three," as soon as Reyes spoke to the man, he began to stutter and barely audibly speak, "forty-two.

Well, yes, those numbers. You're here, like, because of them. You know, they got me too. Because of them there was a sea of misfortunes. Then there was a plane crash… Oceanic 815. I, uh…" Hurley looked around fearfully, "I don't want to upset you with the details. But many people died.

Leni only enthusiastically inserted a red circle into a yellow hole, filling the column, continuing to speak monotonously.

"And then I… sort of ended up back here in the mental hospital. What else to take from me! Just went to the market to buy jerky, when suddenly I saw my ... uh ... dead friend.

"Twenty…three, forty…two."

Did it seem to him, or did the intervals between words become a little less frequent, as if the interlocutor listened to him, and he managed to stir him up? If so, that's reassuring.

"But before that… I saw those numbers again!" On the meter of your car! And now I'm here!

Here the unexpected happened. The spell was broken, Simms stared at him bleary-eyed like an enchanted princess, hard lines cut across his face, his eyes frozen and glassy. And a meaningful question was answered:

"You… did you see those numbers on your car?!

Hurley was taken aback.

"Uh… well, actually, it's quite ancient. My dad and I decided to give it a try and...

"Not e-eito!" The madman moved forward as if about to pounce.

— Leni! What's the matter?. Hugo, who was seriously frightened, asked the question, but the interlocutor was not in the mood to answer. Instead, he stood up gravely, pushed his chair back into place, and slowly turned to face the shocked "recidivist." His grimace on the side resembled a mocking grin.

- And you're here again! Those numbers! They did their job!

Leni, Leni! Calm down buddy!

But instead, a copious stream of blood flowed from the nose, none of the poor fellows in hospital gowns reacted, but the guys from the medical staff were about to approach the place. It was necessary to extract as much information as possible quickly.

- What are you talking about?

" , Hugh-go Rey-reyes," he began to tremble in panic, his eyes began to run around the ceiling, don't you understand yet? From a slightly raised tone, his voice turned into a scream throughout the room. Blood began to pour from his nostrils in large black clots. He scared the hell out of everyone around him. The patients gasped, began to hide behind objects, began to scream too, and the nurses who came to the rescue immediately grabbed him by the elbows and pulled him somewhere away, and the third one shielded Hugo with himself. The rest calmed the mentally ill.

No, wait, let him speak!

"Don't interfere, Hugo!" ' the nurse replied irritably. Hugo peered out from behind him. The guy tried to stop him, but he significantly outnumbered him in size and pushed him aside.

"Now only you m-m-can-stop. those numbers," his pupils suddenly rolled back for a few seconds, and then he turned his gaze to Hugo and began to speak quickly and clearly, "now only you can stop those numbers. You are bound to them twice! Do you hear Hugo?! Twice!

Now convulsive movements have been added to the bleeding. Simms slowly sank to the floor, blood all over his chin. The orderlies tried to stop her, but it was not so easy to catch the shaking patient. Finally, he slowly collapsed.

"Now only you m-m-can-stop. those numbers," his pupils suddenly rolled back for a few seconds, and then he turned his gaze to Hugo and began to speak quickly and clearly, "now only you can stop those numbers. You are bound to them twice! Do you hear Hugo?! Twice!

Hugo, go away! You are negatively affecting him, move away! ,

Suddenly, Simms rushed, throwing off two orderlies, and approached directly to the interlocutor. They managed to grab him, so he said something terribly, looking down, but this time in a low voice, almost a whisper:

- Well, now it's your turn! He smiled at those words. The machine is waiting for you!

Those were his last words. Other patients jumped up from their seats, the doctors approached the scene, but they could not do anything, they were powerless. Death occurred suddenly and very suddenly. A grimace of despair remained on his face. Hugo has seen death more than once, including people close to him - more than once, but this time he could not restrain himself and turned away, because this time she seemed to him outrageously repulsive.

"What does it do? How is this possible? Am I linked to them twice? But how did he know about it? How is it that as soon as he was able to regain consciousness, this happened to him? God, I still doubted that I was not crazy! "- thoughts pierced Hugo's head. What was he talking about? "The poor guy finally got the hang of it" - the next cynical thought appeared, only it was bitter. Hurley felt in its entirety a terrible existential loneliness ... and some defenselessness before this evil world. And he knew that no matter how much he had to hang around here, he would always perceive Leni as his friend.

But what was he just talking about? How did he know about the island if he had been out of his mind for a long time? Well, what is the mechanism?

All these questions were not answered. And the tragedy that happened only exacerbated his nervousness. The notes were crumpled and thrown farther into the doorway. It seems that for Dr. Brooks, this incident with the patient threatened with consequences. But none of this bothered Hugo. There was no answer to the ensuing questions, and there was no way to somehow cope with my depressive state either. The yellow board for the game "Collect four" with chips scattered on the floor reminded of those moments when his friend was alive. But, as it turned out, Hugo Reyes also has friends on the other side ...

Further instructions

When the initial shock had passed, there was a human opportunity to ask questions.

— Where did you come from? You weren't here a moment ago!

The stranger was dry and mysterious, and was clearly not going to waste time on lengthy explanations.

"It doesn't matter, it's important that I came to help," with these words, he slowly, as if nothing had happened, approached the Arab. "That's how it happens," he drawled with a grin.

- Hey! Get away from him! Hugo held out his hands. The answer was again silence. Kelvin, or as he called himself, did not notice the questions asked of him at all and silently approached Sayid, who was lying in a coma, looking at him thoughtfully and with interest.

- OK! Reyes exclaimed, stung by this attitude. You just appeared out of thin air, just like you were here. Maybe you know all the secrets of the island. Maybe you know what time we are in and where our friends are, you know too. I'm not against. But now I want to know what is happening here, because everything is very bad!

"Do as I say, and you can save your friend."

"Uh… you, that… doctor?"

The doctor won't help here. You must find a hut.

How does he know about...? Hearing this phrase, Hugo went cold, and his stomach began to urge to ... convulsions. With some effort, he nevertheless gathered himself and answered the merits of the question:

"It won't work, friend.

Calvin turned to him, looking into his eyes for the first time. His own were absolutely young.

- Reach into the pocket of his overalls. You will find a map of the way to it there.

Hugo felt a catch, something was not right here.

— Ha! If you really want to help, get into his pocket yourself!

- I can not.

- Why?

Because I died an hour ago.

Here is an explanation for what is happening. The madness that Hugo had desperately driven away from himself came back to him in full. Like one day you see a dead friend and are convinced of your ability to talk to the dead. How one day a man with a guitar trunk sits down next to you in a taxi and convinces you to return to the island, stating that talking with ghouls is not even a curse, but a gift. And now the story continues. New madness - new acquaintances.

"Oooh… I'm sorry. It must be hard.

- Thank you.

- And how did you die?

"I was killed in a fit of rage. And because of this, your plane crashed.

- What?

The interlocutor began to gesticulate, while he himself moved so youthfully that his gray hair seemed unnatural.

— It is now September 22, 2004. The very day your plane crashed. And everyone who crashed is here too.

"Um…well, yes, actually we are here…"

- Get yourself together! Calvin raised his voice. - Concentrate on understanding my words! Remember - it is important for you to find a hut. And most importantly, no matter what happens, you cannot cross paths with yourself from this time.

"What's in that hut?"

- Find her. If you find her, you will find him.

- Whom?

— Jacob.

Hugo was shocked, but the stranger hadn't finished speaking yet.

"He will help you. And here's something else. The guitar case... did you keep it?

"Yes," the answer was not false.

Take it with you.

Finally, one very important question took shape in Hurley's head, and he asked it:

"Why are you helping us?"

"Oh," a sad grin followed that sigh, "I'm not helping you.

Hugo was stunned and wanted to ask something else, but a rustle was heard in the bushes behind, Hugo looked around, and in a moment this mysterious Kelvin was no longer next to him. Said continued to lie, breathing hoarsely and showing no signs of life. What was it? Aren't they glitches? Yes, how can Said have some kind of map in his pocket, Said had no idea about the hut! But what if it's not a glitch? There was only one way to check, and he had no right to refuse the opportunity to save a friend.

Hugo walked around the other side of the same tree under which he had put his pistol earlier. There really lay this ill-fated case. Indeed, he managed to keep this thing, despite all the running and moving. Blue case, high quality, with a characteristic handle for easy holding. It remained to do something unpleasant.

Hugo did not like to climb into other people's pockets. But saving his friend required this, and he leaned over the recumbent Said.

The overalls are from exactly the same scientific organization, the Dharma Initiative, that's right. But the jumpsuit was something else. Under the right outer pocket, the inscription "Horace the Mathematician" was embroidered. Apparently, somehow Said appropriated this suit for himself, wow. Well, we'll go ahead and search our pockets.

I wish I didn't have to take off my clothes and hurt my friend. But there was nothing in the outer pockets - neither in the left nor in the right, under which there was an inscription. I had to carefully unzip the zipper and take a good look inside. Hurley cursed himself, realizing that from the outside it looks a little ambiguous, but there were no witnesses, and he continued to look. Finally, patience was rewarded - something rustled in the right inner pocket (although, in fact, the left one). With a quick movement, the fat man took the paper, pulled it out and looked. There were some drawings on a green background and notes in an incomprehensible language were attached to them. In English, the word "hut" was written only in large letters. Looks like it was exactly what he was looking for.

As soon as he managed to put the cherished find in his, respectively, outer pocket, a panting Jin ran out of the bushes.

— Hurley, I found them! Let's take Sayid and let's go!

- Whom? Hurley asked dully, as he still didn't quite understand what he should do next, or whether he should listen to the stranger at all.

Sawyer, Kate, Jack! Forward to them!

"Did you make it to the beach anyway?" The question caught the Korean by surprise. He just shook his head in disbelief, his whole appearance conveying incomprehension. I had to explain:

- It's 2004 now. We were abandoned at the time when the plane crashed.

The Asian thought for a long time, then narrowed his eyes and slowly asked again:

— How do you know?

It doesn't matter, I just know.

- So the plane is now on the beach?

- Yes.

"And everyone who was on the plane," the Korean continued to clarify just as slowly, "is there too?"

"Yes," said Hurley short-sightedly.

Sun! Jin called out his wife's name and rushed down the very path he had planned to follow a few minutes ago.

Hurley stopped him with his huge hands and held him down. Jin desperately tried to escape.

"Hanji—nui sonyul ti!" Na gadja, agdang! he shouted curses in his own language. Finally, he even kicked the fat man in the stomach with his knee, which made his eyes turn black for a moment, but he did not stop holding Hurley, and finally managed to explain the situation:

"That's why we don't need to go there, man. It's not just Sun, there's also Jin three years younger than you, he won't be happy to see a long haired English speaking Korean who looks suspiciously like him hit on his wife.

Jin realized the fallacy of his plan and stopped struggling.

"You will see her again, Jin. But not now. This is not our time.

Uninvited guest

Desmond lay in bed and couldn't sleep. The point here was not at all physical discomfort, as it might seem - after all, in the hospital where he ended up after the assassination, the conditions were quite decent. He was overcome by inner turmoil. Various thoughts overcame him. The Scot had a feeling that nothing was over yet. And statements that the island was not ready to part with it were not encouraging at all. Before, he'd deceived himself (and Penny too!) by telling her that this trip to Faraday's mother was temporary, that they weren't in Los Angeles for long. But then something inside told Hume that this was not so, and now he got involved. His wife Penny and his son Charlie are under threat. If Linus was able to track them down so easily, then what prevents all kinds of other villains and powerful enemies from doing the same?

Desmond glanced at his watch and immediately shuddered. The timer showed twenty-three hours and forty-two minutes. Great reminder of numbers. The damned coincidence further exacerbated his anxiety. Hume began to feel that all his fragile family happiness, which he managed to build, would collapse. All this time, he was afraid every day for the two people closest to him. I wanted to jump up and be near them, covering myself, I wanted to teleport to an impromptu shelter in the blink of an eye, but miracles are impossible, only not in our world. And therefore, the best he could count on was to recover calmly, without worries, waiting for an early discharge.

All this is nonsense and absurdity, the Scot thought to himself. I'm done with the island for good. There is a clear life. There is a wife and a son. Everything else was just a test. And from now on, any villain, whoever he is, will not be happy. And we won't stick to the price.

The noise of voices created in the corridor prevented them from concentrating on thinking about their future life. It looks like something unusual has happened. Des tensed inwardly. He made out the voice of one of the nurses. Justified intonations. As if a medical institution was visited by someone significant. Really?..

From this amazing guess, Desmond went cold all over and he decided to run. His gaze fell to the window. Raising himself with great difficulty, he intently severed the wires attached to him, and then jumped down to the white tiled floor. What happened in the corridor, he did not hear. Stumbling to the window, he discovered that it was barred. In desperation, Des began shaking the bars. Useless. And then the door opened.

"Yes, of course, sir," came the obsequious voice of the nurse.

- Thanks, Sister. You won't leave us?

- Mr. Hume, why did you get out of bed?

"Nothing, I vouch for him, Sister Tiffany. Clear out the room.

The familiar thick bass belonged to Desmond's father-in-law and Penny's father, Charles Widmore.

The Scot turned around slowly, very slowly. Charles looked just as he remembered him then, six years ago. Expensive clothes, a taut figure, despite his advanced age, a sharp look, in which there is benevolent arrogance.

- Charles, you? - Desmond said in surprise, unhooking from the window bars.

- Will you let me in? - The question was asked in an uncertain voice.

- What do you need?

- I need to talk to you, and I've been waiting for the day when my daughter is not in the hospital. For example, I would really like to talk to both of you, but I think it's in our common interest that she never finds out about our conversation.

This argument had an effect on the Scot. Really, I wouldn't want Penny to see the one she least wanted to see.

-Maybe you can join? I know it's uncomfortable for you to talk like that. I will help you.

- No, I'm on my own! Hume snapped. And indeed, somehow he hobbled to the bed, sitting on the very edge. Charles waited patiently. Finally he stopped standing in the doorway and sat down beside her.

- We threw you out of our lives, me and my wife! What else do you need from us? We have suffered enough because of you!

"Desmond, I understand perfectly well that you are reluctant to chat with me, so I'll get right to the point," Charles began. War is coming. War on the island.

Desmond glared at the mention of the island.

"I also understand that you don't care about the island, but that's not the point. The outcome of this war is much more serious and global than you can imagine. Two adversaries. Two sides. Both sides are gathering an army. The enemy army is already in full combat readiness. Ours is not. We are missing one important person. And that person is you. You are the most important soldier of the "good people", Desmond.

Desmond was taken aback by what he heard.

- You are laughing at me? Didn't you tell me I'd never be anything, didn't you show me a sip of the drink?

- Circumstances have changed. You're important, Desmond. You are amazingly special. The rules don't apply to you. You can bypass them. If you come with me, I will tell you everything. Do you agree?

"I'm not interested in your damn island war!" Desmond got excited.

"This is not a war for the island," Widmore's voice crackled. - The outcome of this war is much larger than you think. If you don't help the "good people", if you don't agree, the consequences will be catastrophic. You, me, your wife and child, and in general everyone - will die.

- I have already been told this at the Lebed station, where for three years I entered numbers into a computer, thinking that I was saving the world. Since when should I take your word for it?

You have a chance to do great things. You must understand this, and no one will attract you against your will. But I ask - agree.

"Get out," Des looked furiously at Charles.

- Well, - Charles got up. I ask you to think about it.

Desmond got up and swore a couple of times as he made his way to the door. Then he flung it open and unceremoniously indicated the direction with his finger. His opponent did not object to this and went to the exit. The look showed no emotion. Already in the corridor he turned to his son-in-law:

- Desmond, you have to agree. This is your purpose. A destination you can't escape. And if you dodge, you will be a coward. You're a coward, Desmond, understand? Always has been and always will be! - he added loudly, wanting to convey the meaning of his words.

The door closing with a loud bang was his answer.

LOST