The beach was deathly quiet as Sayid got slowly to his feet. The man with the gun shot wound groaned softly. Blood still flowed from his leg, dripping like paint onto the ground. Sayid hurried over to him, and the others began to whisper, soft and fearful.
Sayid rapidly tied a tourniquet around the man's leg, instructing him to hold a wad of cloth against it to stop the bleeding. His voice was calm, level; no-one heard the fear in his heart. People were watching Sayid, a kind of desperation in their eyes; he could not panic because of them. If he did, they would know there was no hope left. With a heavy heart, Sayid hurried over to Hurley.
His face was deathly white; blood stained his shirt red. Sayid grabbed a shirt and pressed it against the wound, but there was little he could do. His knowledge only dealt with basic cuts. Nothing like this.
"Is there anyone here who knows anything about medicine?"
"I…was training to be a nurse…" stammered a young woman hesitantly. Sayid dragged her down beside Hurley
"Do what you can. I'll get Jack's medicine." He jumped quickly to his feet and hurried towards Jacks tent. Michael came up beside him.
"Sayid…Sayid!" He grabbed him by the arm.
"What's happening?"
"I don't know."
"But-"
"I don't know!" Sayid pulled his arm free, turning away. As he went into Jack's tent, he tripped, landing heavily on his knees. He twisted, and saw it was Sun.
Sayid felt as though he was going insane. It shouldn't be like this. He hauled Sun out of the tent, and saw that Michael was still there.
"Look after her." He said quickly, setting her on the ground. The shock was beginning to wear off; cold, dark anger was beginning to burn inside. As he grabbed the bag of medicine, he thought back on the hard face of Jack as he held a gun to Shannon's head.
You won't do that again he thought darkly, racing back to Hurley. You won't trick us again.
Shannon wandered across the beach, away from the burning fires and the nervous whispers; Away from them. God, how they must hate her. Hate her for how useless she was, how she could do nothing except preen and paint her nails. And be used for a hostage...
Shannon clenched her hands into fists, nails digging into her palm. She had done nothing. She hadn't even seen Jack coming, even after he had shot Hurley. Then he'd grabbed her, and she hadn't even fought back…
A twinge of pain shot through her palm. She unclenched her fist, glancing down at the small drop of dark blood on her hand. It slid across her pale skin, dripping onto the sand. Shannon remembered Charlie's face, contorted with rage when Claire told him the baby was gone. Had he been lying this whole time? Him, Jack and Sawyer? All along, had they been the enemy they were hiding from? The cold shadow of a gun pressed against her head drifted through her mind, making her shudder.
'La mer…'
Shannon's head jerked up. The snatch of song, soft and sad, echoed like a ghost through the empty night.
"Qu'on voit danser le long des golfes clairs
A des reflets d'argent…"
A shadow was crouched near the winding waves, rocking back and forth as the lullaby bore a child into sleep.
"La mer
Des reflets changeants…"
The French woman's singing faded away as Shannon sat beside her. The little child in her arms slept, eyes shut tightly.
'The doctor took her away, didn't he?'
'What?'
'The mother. I think her name is Claire. She was taken.'
'You knew this was going to happen?' Shannon's voice was sharp, angry. Danielle bowed her head slightly, as though in shame. Her eyes were dark, lost in far-away memories.
'It was just like before. Robert, Jean... They took Alex away. Robert held her in his arms and took his own daughter to the Others.' A harsh, bitter laugh came like a cough from her chest.
'Then he came back, asking where she was. It was as though he didn't remember. It was a week after the black smoke began to rise from the forest. The smoke is the beginning of it all.' She paused, looking down at the baby in her arms. Her eyes no longer had their tense ferocity, instead filled with grief.
"I'm sorry. I did not get here in time. He was already sick…" Shannon was silent. There was such pain, such loss in the older woman's eyes that she felt sudden pity for her.
Shannon drew back in alarm as Danielle tried to give her the baby.
"I…I don't…"
"He is not safe with me." She hissed, and the mad look was back in her eyes. Shannon looked nervously down at the little form in her arms, then back up. But Danielle had gone, vanishing into the Jungle. Shannon was alone.
Sayid had called everybody into the centre of the beach, instructing them to bring everything with them. A large patch of emptiness surrounded the crowded camp. No one would be able to sneak up on them. He was just erecting a shelter over the nurse and the still unconscious Hurley when he glanced up. Shannon was walking back across the beach, a small bundle in her arms.
She resettled the cloth bundle awkwardly as he came up to her.
"Where did you find him?"
"It was Danielle. She knew it was going to happen." She rushed on, her voice urgent.
"Sayid, she said that they were sick. Like how her team got sick before." He said nothing, lost in thought.
"What do we do now?"
"I don't know."
Sayid thought back, remembering Danielle's mad eyes piercing him as she held him captive.
"They were sick. I had to kill them…"
In the jungle, deep within the shadows, the air was like ice. Every shuddering breath rose like mist as she huddled against the tree. Her eyes darted at every snap of twig, every rustle. Kate's memories, which had faded like static to the background drifted back slowly. Snatches of words, songs, faces. The clearest was the leering, smirking face of the Air Marshall, sitting beside her on the plane. But then everything faded away, like echoes. It was as though she had fallen asleep, and just woken up in the middle of…well, she didn't know where she was.
Kate pressed herself deeper into darkness, wincing something in her pocket jabbed into her. She reached into her pocket, fingers wrapping around cold metal. Her heart lurched as she felt the familiar shape.
She drew out the small plane.
The last time she had sent his, the Marshall had waved it smirking in front of her face, before shoving into the case, saying it would be a useful exhibit in the court case. Why was it in her pocket?
Something cracked. Someone was coming. Hiding in the shadow of the towering tree, she watched as three men shuffled past, heads staring straight ahead. One of them carried a body in his hands, that of a young woman. As she stared at their faces, something twitched at the back of her mind. For a second she remembered a baby's crying, but then it was gone. The men disappeared into the darkness, and she was alone, with nothing but a dead mans plane to keep her company.
"Jack. Hey Jack."
Someone was shaking him by the shoulders. He cracked an eyelid open. Sawyer's worried face was above him, framed by trees.
"What…" Jack sat up, stretching. He winced as his fingers cramped, and glanced down at his hand.
A gun was clutched in his hand, numb fingers wrapped around the icy handle. He dropped it as though it was a burning coal. He stared around, taking his bearings.
"What's happening?"
"Haven't the foggiest." Sawyer held out his hands; the knuckles were bruised and cracked. Jack glanced around at the Jungle surrounding them.
A flash of colour, propped against a tree.
Jack crept hesitantly towards it, the hurried forward as he recognized the dirty blond hair. Charlie mumbled as Jack shook him awake. His eyes flickered open, dull and glazed.
"Wha….not this again." He said, staring around.
"Again? This has happened before?"
"Just like when we found you Jack." Sawyer came over, rubbing his injured hands. "Just woke up in the middle of nowhere."
Charlie got up, pushing himself up with hands stained with red.
"Charlie, your hands…"
Charlie looked down. They were covered with blood, his skin caked with it. He frantically tried to rub of the stains, but they were unmovable.
"What the hell is happening?" Sawyer's fury came from fear; He stared around as though hoping the answer would leap out from the trees. He stopped as a low slung bush trembled, leaves quivering. They froze, silent.
A person limped through the foliage. She looked up, eyes widening in shock as she saw them in the clearing. Jack's insides turned to ice. A thin face, white as wax, with a fading bruise beneath her eye. But before he could move, or even speak, Kate had turned, racing away from them.
He shouted after her, voice echoing through the trees. She didn't even pause. Jack tore after her; Sawyer and Charlie close behind him.
