There was no sound. No one breathed. The birds even stopped their usual caws. An eerie silence stretched over the jungle as the castaways set their eyes on Boone, wide-eyed.
How could this be, a dead man walking? Sawyer, Michael, and Jin had all seen his burial and the words that had been said there. They had seen the blood that had drenched his clothing on that day. Of course, at that time, Sawyer could barely care less, but now seeing a dead man walk made him anxious.
"Boone, keep walking. I don't care if you're going to complain, I don't care what you feel. All I want is those castaways." A slim looking man appeared in front of him, his hair thin and brown. His face was taut and sharp-looking, and Sawyer could recognize him as the man Ethan.
"Has Walt completed his task?" Boone's voice had turned cold and smooth, like the sea in Sawyer's dream.
"Yes. That is why we must hurry and find them." Ethan replied, turning on his heels and walking forward again, oblivious to the fact the people they were looking for were crouched in the brush only two feet away from him.
There were about ten of them, in total, at least in this group. They all had the same expressions, taut with nothingness. Their eyes looked cold and "far-away", like the murderers Sawyer had seen in movies.
The Others footsteps echoed away, and the noise was restored to the jungle. Birds started to cry their screeching calls once more, and the seven were allowed to breathe again. Michael stared at where they had been, his eyes worried and narrowed.
"Walt…" He whispered under his breath, getting up. Sawyer shot a glance at his companion before getting up himself, brushing away the leaves that had attached themselves to his shirt.
"Ain't life grand…" Sawyer mumbled. Ana-Lucia was the only one to hear him, and the leader of the tail-end survivor's stared daggers into him. Sawyer merely smirked-He could care less.
Jack walked through the jungle, the heat nearly unbearable. Odd, the trees barely made any shade, only the Caves where everyone lodged, considering that "The Others were coming."
Charlie kept on saying that there were no Others. Was he right, or was he just trying to comfort everyone, Jack wasn't sure. Of course, he had not been there when chasing down Danielle-He was busy at the Hatch.
Ah, the mysterious Hatch. Jack was used to the shifts that had probably made Desmond's life miserable all those years. But was it only a coincidence that Jack had known him, or was it something else?
And what would happen if the numbers on the countdown clock went down to zero? What then? Would the Hatch blow up, or would the mysterious sickness cast its wrath upon the castaways?
Jack's head swirled with a million questions without answers, and he hated it. When he had been at the hospital, at his old life, he had known a lot. But now, it was like the doctor knew nothing.
As he looked around for fruit, something seemed to be in his presence. The doctor's tenses tightened, his head swerved this way and that. No one was there. Or at least he couldn't see them.
Jack. A whispering voice came to him. The doctor's eyes narrowed as he stayed perfectly still, breathing in sharply.
The smoke. The raft. The Others. Your father. Your wife. Boone. Walt…More whispers by different people swirled in the air and Jack struggled to interpret them. The leader of the castaways slowly backed up to where he came, turning forwards and walking back toward the Caves. The whispers followed him up till the end of the thick jungle, and suddenly the normal sounds returned.
As he entered a cave, one of Jack's hands lifted and rubbed his temple, sighing deeply. He remembered what Sayid had said as he returned, about the whispers and the first news of The Others. Jack shook his head-He needed some sleep.
"Jack!" Came a yell from the jungle only five minutes. The doctor turned his head sharply to see Sayid himself running toward him. "Jack, its Charlie. He's been attacked."
Sawyer rubbed his eyes tiredly as he slumped near a tree. They had finally taken a break after two more miles. Beads of hot sweat rolled down each of their faces as the drank thankfully from the canteens, enjoying the moment.
"Seems old Boone has risen from the dead," Sawyer commented, taking another gulp from his canteen. Michael shifted, looking at the jungle.
"But they still have Walt," He said, completely ignoring that Boone had risen for the dead. The father's tone was mixed with sadness and rage. "I still need to find him." Ana-Lucia looked at him oddly, before shrugging. If he left, it meant less food to gather.
Something cracked only three yards away from them. The castaways stiffened, praying that it wasn't the Others. It seemed that the tail-end survivors had some bad luck with them-Sawyer had never seen the Others beside the raft incident.
Before they knew what was happening, Sawyer felt something hard hit the side of his head. A black haze filled his vision, and his consciousness slipped away from him.