"Excuse me; are you Atlanta Grey?" a foreign male voice

asked from behind.

Atlanta spun around and saw a young Iraqi, holding a long

black duffel bag. Beside him was the yellow lab known as Vincent.

As soon as she laid her eyes on the bag, her mouth dropped.

"Where did you find this?"

"I believe this is yours," he said, extending the bag to

her. "I found the dog dragging it nearby. When I found the name

on the tag, I thought I would search for the owner."

"Thanks," she grinned, taking the bag and ruffling through

the contents. "They must've thrown it down after me. Thanks,

uh-"

"Sayid," he introduced himself. "I talked with Hurley

earlier. He told me of you and what happened to you. I am truly

sorry."

Atlanta could tell that even though he was being friendly

and courteous to her, he was wary of her. It was a normal

reaction, considering the circumstances, so she didn't feel

too uncomfortable. "The good thing is that I'm alive and I now

have my belongings. That dog right there is a godsend. He found

me AND my stuff," she laughed.

"Well, I must get back to the caves. I am glad I could

be of help," Sayid nodded before walking off, the dog following

close behind.

"I guess it's time for me to head back to the beach and

see if all my belongings are here," she whispered to herself

as she lugged the bag over her shoulder and left.

"Hey, Hurley; I'm glad I caught you," Jack ran up to him

as Hurley was walking past.

Hurley stopped and caught a feeling that this was going

to be a pointless conversation. "Yeah, man. What's up?"

"Look, I know you've become friends with Atlanta, but what

do you really know about her? She won't tell you her occupation,

but one of the first things she tells you is that she killed

her little brother?" Jack pointed out.

"Listen, Jack; I know you're just trying to help and all,

but Atlanta feels bad about what she did years ago. If you'd

give her another chance, you'd see she's not a bad person. She's

just scared like everyone else here."

"All I'm saying is, be careful, okay? She may look harmless,

but so did Ethan and look what HE'S," Jack began,

but Hurley held up his hand, cutting him off.

"Atlanta may be a little strange, but she is NOT Ethan,

Jack. Don't even compare those two. You may think that you're

trying to protect me, dude, but I'm a grown man last time I

checked. Do me a favor and just back off," Hurley replied sharply

before walking off. Jack barely knew her, didn't know a damn

thing about her other than what he wanted to hear. What gave

him the right to judge her?

THREE DAYS LATER

Locke watched from afar as Boone was setting up some traps

in the jungle. For some reason, he had been awfully tense lately.

It was as if he could feel that something was about to happen.

Something unexpected...

"Hi, there," a voice called from behind.

Locke, using lightning speed moves, spun around and grabbed

the stranger by the shoulders, attempting to pin the trespasser

against a nearby tree. The stranger shielded his/her face with

his/her hands, and just as Locke was about to ask who the hell

he/she was, several volts of electricity went up through his

body. He jerked, letting the stranger go. He then saw that it

was a woman. She had stumbled backwards during the shock and

hit her head on the tree. The impact had knocked her out cold.

Still shaking a little, Locke managed to pick her up and carry

her to a nearby resting place. It was then that he realized

who she was, for by now, everyone had either seen or heard about

the mysterious white-haired woman who had fallen out of the

airplane.

"Is everything there?" Hurley asked, sitting beside Atlanta

as she ruffled through her duffel bag.

She zipped it up and sighed. "Everything except Genevieve."

"Who?" he asked with a laugh.

"Genevieve was this stuffed teddy bear that a 'fan' had

gotten me years ago. I've gotten a lot of stuffed animals and

things, but Genevieve was somehow my favorite. She always made

me smile. I guess she just didn't survive the fall." She then

shrugged. "I'm too old for stuffed animals, anyway."

"So, are you ever going to tell me what you did for a living

or am I going to have to guess?"

Atlanta laughed heartily and placed the bag off to the

side. "I was an aerobat. It's a cross between an acrobat, Harry

Houdini, and a really stupid human being. I did tricks on an

airplane for entertainment at air shows. My best trick was being

suspended upside down from an airplane in a straitjacket. Now

picture this: I'm hanging upside down in this thing, and there's

a time bomb set for three minutes on the plane. I have to get

out of the straitjacket and get the hell out of Dodge before

the plane explodes. Now, keep in mind that there was no one

piloting the aircraft, either. It's not your ordinary airplane;

big enough for me to hang upside-down from, but small enough

for it to be remote controlled. Yeah, it was a stupid job, but

it paid the bills and I've always liked adventure and danger."

"Are there a lot of people who do what you do?" Hurley

asked after a few seconds.

"A few, I guess. Why?"

"When I was younger, I went to this air show in Houston.

They had an aerobat there, too. She was awesome, but a few shows

later, something terrible happened and she died."

"Wow. Glad to know I wasn't the only female."

Hurley smiled. He couldn't believe Jack had ever compared

her to Ethan. If he could see and hear her now, he'd change

his tune.

"I hope Locke doesn't hurt Boone too badly," Atlanta said

suddenly, interrupting his thoughts.

"What makes you say that?"

Atlanta told him what had happened with her accidentally

scaring Locke in the jungle. "He tried to attack me, but he

told me later that before he could, he got shocked pretty badly.

We figured out that it must've been Boone's traps. He was setting

them up and I guess Locke stepped on one. When he stumbled from

the shock and let go, I hit my head and passed out. In a way,

though, I want to hug Boone, but Locke may kill him first."

"But doesn't Boone need a power source to set traps

like that?" Hurley scratched his head.

"I'd think that, too, but those two guys are a hell of

a lot smarter than us."

"Hey, Boone; why don't you watch where you set up those

traps next time? I stepped in one of them back there!" Locke

complained.

"I didn't set any traps back that far. This is as far as

I've gotten with them," Boone protested.

"Are you sure? Something sure shocked the hell out of me

when I nearly attacked that woman who fell off the plane. I

scared her, instead, and she hit her head on the tree."

"Locke, I promise," Boone told him, walking over to where

he was. "Do you think one of them got kicked over there?"

"If you're meaning purposely, I'd say you're right. It was

almost as if someone knew what my exact moves were going to

be and set one of your traps in my way to stop me."

"Do you really think it was the new girl?" Boone asked.

"I don't know; according to her, she can't remember me

even being shocked," Locke replied with a hint of accusation

in his voice. "I think that I'm going to have a little talk

with our new survivor first thing tomorrow morning."