Jack ran into the jungle, following the blurry figure of Sayid ahead of him. His back bounced wildly from his back, the sturdy straps streaming in the wind.
The Iraqi in front of the doctor stopped abruptly, and Jack walked over beside him. They were in a very small clearing, where grass came to be as tall as Jack's knees. He quickly turned his head to see Sun sitting near a motionless figure, who was splotched with blood virtually everywhere. The left leg was twisted in an awkward angle, and his shirt was torn, indicating a struggle.
Sun looked up immediately as Jack approached and knelt down by Charlie. She had found him lying there when she had been collecting fruits, seeing that their supply of it was slowly running out. When she had entered the clearing, though, her heart had leaped at the sight of Charlie crumpled up near a tree, and had ran for help, soon getting Sayid.
Jack lifted his hand and gently shook Charlie by the shoulder, trying not to touch the large scrape that extended from his left shoulder down.
"Charlie?" Jack said, looking at him. About to lift his arm away from him, Charlie's eyes split open suddenly, making the doctor tense slightly.
"They are real…" Charlie managed to say, his voice weak. "The Others…" His eyes closed again, and his body relaxed again. Jack glanced at Sayid, who was looking slightly disturbed.
"We need to carry him back to the Caves," Jack announced after a moment's silence, standing up. "Sayid, grab his left arm, I'll take his right. Try not to touch his wounds."
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Sawyer groaned as he awoke from unconsciousness, his eyes flickering open slowly. His mind was blurry, and his thoughts drifted randomly in his mind. Sawyer blearily remembered where he was, until a high-pitched bird screeched not far away from him. His senses came back to him only a split-second later, and his head twisted around to see what had happened, and where exactly where he was.
His legs and arms were tied back onto a sturdy looking tree, and it seemed that Sawyer was pinned helplessly there. Trees surrounded them, and the grass was a deep dark green. Although it was the mid-afternoon, the place seemed eerily dark. Even the air around it seemed almost suffocating and Sawyer could not help but feel out of place.
"Look, he's awake." Sawyer heard someone say in an unfamiliar voice, only a small distance away. A figure emerged from the shadows, obviously a male. Sawyer waited patiently for him to speak, giving him one of those "You-Think-I'll-Cooperate?" stares.
The man was skinny, his arms tight with muscles. His shirt was a dark black, ripped in random places and hung loosely off his torso. The jeans that were on his legs were ripped on both of the knees, and his hair was an almost-white blonde.
"Where is Jack Shepherd?" The man said. Sawyer stared blankly at him- What did he want with Saint Jack?
"I said, where is Jack Shepherd?" His voice became almost snake-like, and his eyes pierced into Sawyer's own eyes.
Sawyer merely looked at him, considering the options. If he told the man and his comrades (Who he had seen in the background) where Jack was, would they untie him, or leave him here to die? If he did not, would he be wounded?
"Who are you, first of all," Sawyer asked suddenly, looking at him. "I can't answer without knowing who the hell ya'll are."
Sawyer watched as the man whispered something to his "buddies" in the background before turning his head back forward once more. His expression had turned from violent to tense.
"Our identities are to remain secret until our mission is complete," The man said, turning his body and striding toward his companions.
"So, you're just going to leave me here?" Sawyer questioned, raising a brow. Why did they tie him to a tree, in the first place, if they didn't want him for something?
"No. We need you for the mission."
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