"Sawyer! Sawyer! Wake up man!" Michael cried out as he slapped Sawyer's face to get him to come to. He had a bullet wound in his right shoulder and a shiny red river of blood was leaking down his arm. Jin had pulled him out of the water and placed him on what was left of the raft. Part of the bottom of the raft was still intact allowing it to float but most of it had been blown to pieces. Jin felt for a pulse and nodded at Michael to indicate that he was still breathing. Michael continued to slap his face.

"Come on, Sawyer. Wake up!" Tears were leaking down Michael's face but they weren't for Sawyer, they were for Walt. The people in the boat they had signaled with a flare gun shot Sawyer and then grabbed Walt. They sailed away as one of them threw a bomb onto their raft, destroying half of it. Parts of the raft were still ablaze as Michael took one of the blankets that were aboard, doused it with water, and pounded out the flames. As the last of the fire was gone, Jin spoke out to Michael.

"Bad," he said as he pointed to the unconscious Sawyer. He then pointed behind them back towards the island. "We...return," he said as he pointed between Michael, himself, and the island.

"No!" Michael shouted louder than intended. "We can't just turn back! What about my boy! What about Walt?"

Jin understood when he heard the name 'Walt' and nodded but he looked at what was left of their raft and said a mouthful of Korean words. Michael knew what he meant. The raft was too badly damaged to just keep sailing. It would eventually sink. They had to turn back but how long would it take them to reach land, that is, if they can find it again. Michael got up in a rage and let out a loud yell of frustration and anger. Jin flinched and looked bewildered.

They heard a small groan as Sawyer stirred. His eyes flashed open for a split second and then closed again. He tried to pick himself up but was unsuccessful and fell backwards with a thud. He yelled in pain as his wounded shoulder hit the wooden floor of the raft.

"Sawyer?" Michael said as he gently shook his good arm. "Can you hear me?"

"Hmm," Sawyer moaned as his eyes opened half way. "Damn. What the hell was that?" His voice was barely above a whisper and his face twisted with pain.

"Sawyer you were shot and you fell into the water," Michael explained. "Jin saved you. Can you breathe okay?"

"What?...yeah, yeah," he whispered. He grabbed his wounded shoulder and clenched his teeth as his eyes shut tight. He opened them again and looked around. He looked a little disoriented. Jin and Michael looked concerned.

"Are you two alright?" he whispered as he tried once again to sit himself up but failed. "Where's Walt?"

Michael's face fell and he turned away. "Those bastards took him," he shouted out into the night towards the direction they had fled.

Sawyer and Jin were silent. They didn't know what to say. He stood there staring after them for a long time until he heard Sawyer groan again and he turned around to help him sit up.

"Thanks," he whispered as he and Jin helped him up.

"Here," Jin said as he ripped the sleeves of his shirt and tied them around Sawyer's shoulder. Sawyer grimaced with pain as he tightened the knot but nodded in thanks when he finished.

Michael examined the damage to the raft and came across Walt's bag. Tears rimmed his eyes and he angrily kicked the fuselage that made up the cabin. He collapsed onto the wooden floor and wiped away the flow of tears running down his cheeks. Jin put a reassuring hand on Michael's shoulder and asked, "You...ok?"

Michael nodded although it was a lie. He was so confused. It was impossible to chase after the boat with their damaged raft. It wouldn't even be possible with the raft fully in tact. The boat that took Walt had a motor and the raft did not. They also needed to get Sawyer back to Jack, fast. Michael sighed heavily and suppressed his desire to chase after Walt. He would have swum after the boat if he were alone. He didn't care if he had to swim one hundred miles; all he cared about was Walt.

"Michael?" called Jin as he handed Sawyer some water.

"Yeah." His voice was choked with anxiety and tears. "I know, let's go back."

Back on the Island at the Hatch...

Jack and John gazed down into the dark abyss with uneasy eyes. Kate looked over Jack's shoulder and a whispered a barely audible, "Wow."

"Well," Jack asked looking at John expectantly. "Now what?"

John looked at Jack with almost the same expression. "We go down."

"What?" asked Kate, "You actually want to go down there?"

John nodded as he stared down the long dark vertical tunnel.

"We can't do that," said Hurley. "Well I know I can't do that." Jack knew Hurley was talking about his weight. The hole was too cramped for a man of his size to fit.

"Alright," said Jack, "you and Kate can go back to camp with the others."

"Hey, I didn't say I wanted to go back," Kate said.

"Well you don't exactly seemed thrilled to stay, Kate," Jack said.

Kate just looked at him. She was clearly at a loss for words.

"How about you two stay up here while Jack and I go down?" suggested John.

"No," Kate said, "No I don't think you two should go down there. I don't think any of us should. We have no idea what's waiting for us down there."

"I agree with Kate, dude," Hurley said, eyeing up the hole as if it were a poisonous snake.

"There could be food or supplies down there," John reasoned.

"Or death," said Hurley, still glaring at the hatch.

"This could be our only chance for survival," Jack persisted, ignoring Hurley's cryptic words.

"Survival?" Kate asked, looking surprised. "If you haven't noticed we are getting along just fine. We have enough food, water, and shelter."

"But there could be equipment down there like a radio or maybe some flare guns," said John, trying to persuade Kate.

"But..." Kate tried to find a way of retaliation but it didn't come. She couldn't think of a reason why they shouldn't go down there. They were doomed to die on this island anyway. She could feel it. The real reason she didn't want to go down there was because she was worried about Jack. But she'd be dammed if she ever let him know that. John and Jack were looking at her, awaiting her debate. Hurley was still staring at the hatch.

"Fine," she said angrily, "I'll sit up here and wait."

Jack and John nodded. Hurley sat on a nearby log and began toying with a small plant that grew from it.

"Ok, I'm going to go down first," Locke said. "I'll talk you through it. When I get to the bottom I'll shine my flashlight up towards you. Let's just hope that it isn't too deep to carry the light." Jack nodded. "And you two," he added as he looked over towards Kate and Hurley. "If you hear anything suspicious, get help. If you hear anything besides us trying to escape, seal it shut."

Kate and Hurley nodded solemnly. John grabbed the top wrung of the descending ladder and lowered himself into the hole. He went down slowly and called out any obstacle he encountered. "Jack, there's a wrung missing about seven steps down so watch your step."

"Ok."

"It's getting a little slippery after the twelfth step."

After a while his voice grew fainter and soon only Jack, who had his face above the entrance could hear him. What Kate heard sounded like an easy descent and a weight lifted from her shoulders, although her gut felt like it was full of lead.

Suddenly Jack said, "I can just barely see that light, John. I'm coming down!" He flashed his flashlight back down the hole, signaling to John that he got the message. As he lowered himself into the hatch, Kate finally spoke up.

"Jack. Be careful."

He nodded and a couple minutes later, he disappeared into the darkness.

Meanwhile, back at the caves...

"So where did you find him?" asked Claire as she cradled Aaron in her arms.

"The place where the black smoke was coming from," said Charlie very importantly.

Claire's face fell. "Was there anyone there?"

"No. It was just an abandoned bonfire. The only person there was Danielle."

Claire scowled at the mention of her name. "I can't believe she took him from me. She was the one who tried to take him while I was still pregnant. I saw the scratches I made on her arm."

"Well she won't try it again," said Charlie.

"How do you know?" persisted Claire. "She did it more than once. Three times a charm, you know."

"Claire, I promise that she won't take Aaron away from you again. I told you that I'd take care of you."

Claire seemed to calm down a little and started to rock Aaron to sleep. "Thanks, Charlie. For, you know, helping me so much since we've been here. It's nice to have someone to rely on out here where everything is so unstable."

Charlie smiled. "Here, I'll go get you something to eat. I'll bet you haven't eaten all afternoon."

He walked over to his bag where he had a few pieces of fruit stored away and he noticed the Holy Mother figurine that was filled with Heroine sticking out of it. He quickly shoved it out of sight and glanced back at Claire to see if she had seen. She was luckily looking at Aaron at the time.

Back at the Hatch...

"How long has it been?" asked Kate as she sat around the outer edge of the dark tunnel known as the hatch.

"Only about ten minutes," said Hurley who was absentmindedly drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick.

Kate felt as if she had just finished off about a dozen espressos. She was jittery and restless. She had regretted her decision to stay out of the hatch and be on the lookout but she somehow sensed that it wouldn't be wise to go after them. This thought made her stomach clench tighter. She just kept reminding herself that Jack was a doctor and that John always seemed to know exactly what to do in difficult situations. She had to get her mind off of Jack so she looked to Hurley for help.

"Hey, Hurley?" she asked.

"It's only a minute later than when you asked me a minute ago," he said, not paying too much attention. "Just keep count in your head."

"No I don't need the time, it's about those numbers you talked about."

For the first time since he sat down on the log he looked up at her. "Oh," he said.

"Well?" Kate asked expectantly. "What are they and why are they bad?"

Hurley sighed. "If I tell you, will you keep them to yourself and promise never to use them?"

"Use them? Use them how?"

"It's best if you didn't know. Just promise me."

"Ok, I promise."

"Would you believe me if I told you that I was worth one hundred and fifty-six million dollars?" Hurley began.

Kate stared at him. "Umm, I guess," she said with uncertainty. "Why?"

"Well, back at home I have this...friend who is a little off. He lives in a sort of mental hospital. I was visiting him one day and he didn't say one thing to me for the whole hour I was there. All he did was mumble the numbers 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42 over and over again."

Kate looked extremely confused. Hurley pressed on.

"There was a lottery drawing that week and I decided to play those exact numbers and, lo and behold, they won." Hurley smiled at the look on Kate's face. "I know what you're thinking. Just dumb luck, and that's what I thought too until different things started to happen."

"What sort of things?" Kate said while she subconsciously recited those mysterious numbers in her head.

"Bad things," said Hurley with a very serious tone. "People around me would either get hurt or drop dead. New, million dollar houses would explode into flames and burn to the ground."

Kate's eyes widened and she continued reciting the numbers in her head.

"But what was even more weird was that I kept earning more money. I put a portion of my winnings on several stocks and they always went sky high. However, every time I made more money, more bad things would happen. It's like those numbers are cursed. I know they are."

"And you saw those numbers where?" she asked.

"On the other side of the hatch. They're etched onto the edge."

A shiver went down Kate's spine. She hated to think that Hurley's cursed numbers were currently etched onto what may be their only hope. She suddenly felt more worried than she did before about Jack and John's safety and what may be waiting for them down there. But at the very same time, she couldn't help from repeating the numbers over in her mind.