Chapter Thirteen
"The greatest weakness of all is the great fear of appearing weak."
- Jacques Benigne Bossuel
The next morning, everyone was nervous and no one admitted it. They followed the lead of Ana and Eko and hiked on, but when they heard the pattering of feet, they all drew and readied their weapons. They formed a sort of circle amongst themselves and began to revolve their way deeper into the jungle.
They had not gotten forty feet farther when they heard the loud snap of a small branch, which had given way under the weight of a body tied there, upside down, by its feet. Limb and body both came crashing down to the ground, and they all scattered before they could be hit.
Locke approached the fallen limb first, drew his knife, and cut the body from the tree. Nadia was next, and she fell to her knees on the ground, dropped her weapon, and cried, "Nasser, Nasser." She put her ear to the man's lips and turned to the rest of the group. "Help me!" she yelled. "He is alive. Help me!"
Sayid examined the victim, who seemed untouched except for his left leg, which was badly mangled. Nasser was still losing blood, and although he was breathing, he was not speaking. "What method is this?" Nadia asked Sayid, glancing at her husband's leg.
"It is nothing I have seen," he answered. "I do not even know how a man could do such a thing."
Locke stepped forward and glanced at the wound. "It looks like the work of a bear," he said.
Ana now butted in between Locke and Sayid to look at the wound. "Well a bear sure as hell didn't tie him to that tree."
"Maybe they just left him for us to find, and a bear came along," suggested Locke.
Nadia ripped her hijab from her head and handed it to Sayid. He looked at her doubtfully. The last time he had seen her without it, other than in the photo the C.I.A. had given him, was in the prison, when it had been torn from her in order to humiliate her, and she had been handed over to him uncovered. "For the tourniquet," she said.
Marcus helped Sayid to fashion one while the rest prepared a stretcher. Once the bleeding was stopped and Nasser was loaded onto the stretcher, they turned and began to set foot towards camp. "Wait!" cried Michael from behind them. "Wait! What about Walt? What about the other kids?"
They all turned and cast pitying glances in his direction. "He is right," said Nadia. "We came here for his son, too. Two people must bring back the stretcher. The rest of us must continue on."
"I don't know," said Ana, shaking her head. "You know, I thought with the guns…I thought there might be a chance. But they dropped that body on us before we could even see them. We've got to get back."
"I will go alone with Michael if I have to," said Nadia.
Eko drew up beside her. "You will not have to go alone."
Sayid looked at Nadia and shook his head. "You should return with your husband."
"No," she replied, motioning to Michael, "I have a debt to pay to this man."
"Then," said Sayid, "Ana and I will take Nasser back to camp, if the rest of you are willing to continue on."
No one tried to back out. Nadia walked to Sayid and whispered, "Thank you. You are the only one I trust to bring him back safely. I know it cannot be easy for you." She then went and recovered her weapon from the ground.
Ana tilted her head in that well-worn, tough-girl posture. Sayid suspected she hated herself for being the only one who had announced her desire to turn back. "Let's move out," she said authoritatively, bending to lift one end of the stretcher. Sayid raised the other. Nadia came over one last time, bent to kiss her husband, and then headed with the other six farther into the jungle.
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"Can we rest?" asked Ana. It was clear she did not want to be the first to ask it. She had pressed on past her own point of fatigue. Sayid had known she was weakening, and he had said nothing, offered nothing. He had wanted her to admit her weakness. It was the only way she could become a more disciplined leader.
"If you need to," he replied.
"I don't need to," Ana shot back. "I just thought it might be wise…"
"Well, then, let us walk on."
Ana began to walk again. She had made it about thirty feet when she stumbled and fell to her knees. Nasser tumbled out of the stretcher. Sayid cursed himself for not foreseeing the possibility. The man groaned, but he seemed otherwise unaffected. Sayid gently laid him back on the stretcher, checked his pulse and breathing, and let out a sigh of relief.
The Iraqi sat down and opened his backpack, pulling out a bottle of water. He first held the bottle to Nasser's lips, forcing him to drink, watching half the precious liquid spill out the corners of his mouth. "Swallow, damn you," mumbled Sayid. When he thought Nasser had received adequate hydration, he brought a bottle to Ana, who eyed him angrily. But she took it and drank.
At last, he too took a bottle and drank. "We will sit for half an hour and recover our energy," he said. "Eat what little we have. Then we will walk on. We should be back to the beach by nightfall."
When they drew into camp, both were exhausted. They were greeted by Charlie and Jin, who took over the weight of the stretcher and brought Nasser to Jack in the hatch. Sawyer brought Ana and Sayid water, and they drank greedily until both had almost vomited. Satiated, they found the strength to rise and make it to the group fire, where they were greeted curiously by the other survivors. They recounted their story, and then the waiting began.