Chapter Six: Bad Moon Rising

"This woman is dead."

Kate stared down at the pictures, her stomach turning over and back. They'd opened the briefcase to find a sheaf of bland accounting papers, tax forms, and inventory sheets for some kind of coffee shop chain. Just another traveling businessman, she'd thought.

She'd been wrong.

In the lid pocket, they'd found a roll of Tums, a travel itinerary, a copy of Money magazine, and three photographs of a dead woman.

There was a bluish cast to her skin, and though her eyes were open they were glassy and unseeing. There were faint smears of blood visible on her skin. The first photograph was a close-up, a disturbing head shot of those sightless eyes. The other two were full-body shots that showed various bruises and marks.

The woman, whoever she was, had been brutalized and murdered.

Kate turned away, her eyes sliding shut as she swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. She took several deep breaths. She hugged her arms to her sides.

"You gonna faint on me, Freckles?"

"Not if I don't look at those pictures again," she murmured under her breath.

"Look on the bright side. Whoever's this was, he's dead."

"How do you know that?" she asked, turning back to him but not looking down at the briefcase.

"Would you leave somethin' like that behind?"

"Maybe he couldn't find it."

"You found it right under a bush," he pointed out.

She wanted Sawyer to be right. She wanted the owner of the pictures to be dead. She didn't want to think about a murderer running around on the island. They already had to deal with polar bears and who knew what else; she didn't want to have to deal with murderers too.

"Let's just get out of here," she said, picking up the duffel bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She glanced back at him, then turned and walked away from the wreckage.

"You know, I wouldn't have pictured you as the squeamish type," Sawyer said.

She batted a tree branch out of her way. "I guess you don't know me very well."

"So tell me somethin' I don't know."

"Like what?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder.

"Oh, I don't know, Freckles. Like what you did to get you arrested by that marshal."

"I thought that subject was closed."

"To you, maybe. I still don't know what I wanna know."

Her steps faltered just a bit, and she forced the memories away before they could swamp her. Now wasn't the time to get bowled over by her emotions. She was already close enough to the edge as it was.

"It's over and done with," she said. "I'm not going to get into it."

"Bet you told the good doctor."

She turned and scowled at him. "What?"

"On the beach yesterday. Before you went into the tent."

"I didn't tell him anything. And I'm not going to tell you either."

"Aw, come on, Freckles. No one's around to hear you."

She ignored him, pressing on through the jungle.

"At least let me see your mug shot."

"You want to see my mug shot?" she asked, glancing back again.

"Let me see what a badass criminal you are."

She couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up. She was some badass. Running into the jungle during a nightmare. Clinging to Sawyer at the slightest hint of something wrong. Letting him deliberately provoke her into losing her temper. Kissing him and liking it far more than she should. Yeah, she was a real badass.

"I don't have it," she told him.

"Well, where is it?"

She shrugged. "I think Jack has it."

"Why did you give it to him?"

"I didn't give it to him. The marshal had it, and Jack told me yesterday that he'd seen it. So I guess he has it now."

"Why didn't you get it back?"

She'd had other things on her mind. Her throat had been sore from nearly being choked moments earlier, and the marshal's condition had been eating at her. Yes, his death would mean a sort of freedom for her, but she hadn't been thinking about that when she'd asked Jack to end his suffering. She'd only wanted the pain to stop.

"I guess I wasn't badass enough to get it back," she said, and Sawyer laughed.

Jack leaned back against a tree and took a sip from one of the water bottles they'd brought. He was exhausted. He and Sayid had been hiking for hours, but so far had found no sign of Kate or Sawyer.

He was more than a little worried. Whatever had killed the pilot was out there somewhere. He'd seen it thrashing in the trees last night. He was not going to think that it may have already found them. It was bad enough that the marshal was dead. He wasn't going to think that Kate and Sawyer were dead too.

"We should head back," Sayid said. "It will be getting dark soon."

"We still have some time," Jack said, pushing away from the tree.

"We don't want to get caught out here in the dark."

Jack knew he was right, but he didn't want to give up. It was too dangerous out here. He didn't want to think of Kate out here in the dark. Alone with Sawyer. Jack didn't trust him. He was a hothead, and he'd used a gun twice in the three days since the crash. There was no telling what he would do if he was lost in a hostile jungle.

"Why would they run into the jungle at night?" he wondered aloud.

"There is no telling what threat they may have sensed on the beach," Sayid said.

"Kate saw the pilot die. She wouldn't run into the jungle for just anything. And if there was a threat big enough to make her run, why didn't anyone else see it?"

"I don't have an explanation now, but we will figure it out tomorrow."

Jack hoped he was right. Without any food or water, neither of them would survive long in the jungle. And that was if they stayed safe from whatever predators were out there. And if they stayed safe from each other.

With a last glance behind him, he turned and followed Sayid back to the beach.

Sawyer walked beside Kate, batting branches out of the way as they went.

Kate had cracked, and though things were now a lot more interesting they were also more complicated. She'd kissed him, and it had been damn good. They shot sparks off each other, that was for sure. He wondered if he could goad her into another kiss. Making out with Kate was a hell of a better way to pass the time than anything he'd found so far. Now if he could just convince himself that all he wanted was a few kisses.

He'd seen the way she gravitated toward Jack whenever they were at the beach. It annoyed him to no end, seeing yet another golden boy get the girl. It always seemed to happen the same way. The golden boy got the girl, the girl got bored and cheated with a guy like him, then everything went to hell.

Well, he was older and wiser now. He knew the score. If Jack wanted Kate, all he'd have to do was flash a few of those fancy doctor skills of his and he'd probably get her. It shouldn't matter. He shouldn't care. He didn't want a relationship with Kate. He didn't want a relationship with anyone. But mostly, he didn't want to admit that it burned, just a little, seeing her with Jack.

Then he smirked. He was pretty sure she hadn't kissed the good doctor. Not yet. So that was one point in his favor.

He looked up ahead at her. She was picking her way along the narrow path, the duffel bag she'd taken bouncing against her leg. He had no idea what she had in there, but he wouldn't have been disappointed if she'd taken some of the lingerie he'd found. He'd seen it and immediately cursed himself for picturing Kate wearing it. He didn't care what she wore. He wasn't looking for romance, not from her or anyone. Only sex.

He almost had himself convinced of that.

A hint of a sickly-sweet smell wafted over him. He frowned, trying to figure out why the smell was different from the dozen other unpleasant jungle odors. He concentrated on the smell as they slowly walked down the path. It was the beginnings of decay, along with a hint of some kind of fuel, he thought.

He ran right into Kate, who had frozen in the middle of the path. "What are you doing, Freckles?"

"That smell," she said.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I think I know where it's coming from."

"What are you talking about?"

She turned to look at him. "I think I know where we are."

"Okay, where are we?" he asked, his disbelief clear.

"The cockpit," she said quietly, her voice shaking along with her body. She met his eyes for only a second, then turned and resolutely continued making her way along the path.

A few minutes later they punched through the trees and into the clearing. The hulk of the cockpit gleamed in the beginnings of twilight. The smell was sickening, the gaping wound of the fuselage garish and disturbing. Kate stood at the edge of the clearing, her back ramrod stiff, her face a blank mask. She probably didn't even realize that she'd again grabbed a handful of his shirt.

They both stared at the wreckage, neither one realizing that someone was watching them from the other side of the clearing.