A/N: School starts back up Monday but we get a nice, Skate-y new episode of Lost on Wednesday so all is right with the world. Enjoy the chapter ;)
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They stood there staring the door down for a long while. The uncertain feeling returned to the pit of Kate's stomach as her eyes scanned the steel before her. Even though years of humidity had rusted the metal and chipped the paint, she could still see the outer circles of the Dharma logo under the glare of the flashlight.
"What the hell is this?" Sawyer's voice snapped her back to reality and she shook her head clear before humorlessly replying.
"A door." Something was telling her to turn around and walk away right this instant. To walk away while she still had that option. (Kate took a moment to wonder if she was being rational or if running was simply her answer to everything. Unwillingly, she then wondered if running really was still an option.)
"Thank you, Captain Obvious." When he still didn't get an answer, Sawyer decided to clarify. "What's it doin' here?" He stepped forward and reached for the handle (which Kate hadn't even noticed before.) Before she could utter "don't," he gave the door a tug.
It didn't budge.
Kate exhaled a sigh of relief and took a step back. "Let's get out of here. It's cold and the air's too damp to start a fire."
It was Sawyer's turn to ignore her. He kneeled down in front of the door handle and held the flashlight so close to it that Kate couldn't see past its blinding brightness. "Still got that key ya found earlier?"
That caught her by surprise. "What?"
Sawyer lowered the light and turned to regard her curiously. "Door's locked. There's a keyhole." He drawled each word carefully, then lightened his tone. "And you know what they say..." A pause and grin for effect. "If the key fits..."
"That's not what they say," Kate replied tiredly, setting her hands on her hips in a parental manner. "And maybe it's locked for a reason."
"Didn't exactly stop you and the doc from shackin' up in the hatch while I was out takin' bullets from residential goons," his still-present grin gave away his enjoyment of this little game, "or driftin' through the open seas as shark bait," Kate lowered her head and smiled as Sawyer continued listing off his troubles, "all night long, only to be spit back out on this forsaken pile of dirt and come face-to-face with..." She dug the key out of her backpack's front pocket and tossed it to him. He caught it skillfully and turned back to the door with a smug expression. "Look on the bright side, cupcake. If there's a bed, I'll consider sharin' it with ya."
The statement flew over her head as she nervously watched Sawyer jiggle the key within the lock. (What are the odds, she remembered hearing Locke state the day Sawyer had woken in the hatch. Though she'd been passing the hall and the words had only registered subconsciously, that phrase now replayed in her mind.)
"It's not fair, you know," she'd lost count of how many times she had spoken without thinking in the last few hours, but she found herself undergoing another brain lapse where it almost seemed like she had no control over her own body. And for a moment, she couldn't place the familiarity of the words she was voicing.
Then she remembered. (She hadn't gotten the full meaning of the statement the first time around, but now she understood it.)
"What ain't fair?" Sawyer called back without really paying attention. He twisted the key but it refused to move.
"You coming back like this." This time he turned to her, but she had her face down and her damp hair was obscuring her eyes. He wondered if she was just talking to herself but before the conversation could continue, the sharp click of the lock brought them both back to the door.
Sawyer stood and placed his hand on the handle. With a steady pull, the massive steel portal squeaked open.
A chilly, dry air washed over them and Kate shivered.
"Well?" She brought herself to ask a full second later, not even bothering to peer around Sawyer's frame to see for herself what awaited beyond. "What is it?"
He took a step forward and shot her a mysterious grin over his shoulder. "Come see for yourself." And with that, he turned off his flashlight and disappeared into the darkness.
Damn it, Kate muttered to the shadows, squinting as her eyes refocused. She had two choices; follow her gut (and her brain) back to the cave entrance or follow her curiosity (and, perhaps, her heart) into the unknown after Sawyer.
Her hands slowly reached for the wall. She felt out the door frame and hardly hesitated before stepping inside, finally allowing herself to admit defeat.
---
She had expected something more interesting to greet her beyond the door. In truth, she now stood in a cold and empty rock tunnel. It probably would've helped if she could see past her own feet.
"Sawyer?" Her voice didn't go above a whisper, and Kate mentally kicked herself for being so on guard. She swallowed and called out again, adding some confidence to her tone.
"Boo." She spun as a hand brushed her shoulder and visibly jumped back a step upon coming face-to-face with Sawyer. He was holding the lit flashlight under his face in the oldest "scare the living daylights out of your younger sister" trick in the book. Kate frowned as her heart slowed its beating.
"Stop being an ass." She snatched the flashlight from his hands as he continued to grin at her.
"Hell, Freckles, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're scared." He stalked after her as she started down the tunnel. She could now see that it resembled the one she'd first walked back at their hatch, only this one was dug into the natural stone of the island, not made from concrete. And there didn't seem to be any lighting.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're taking advantage of that fact," she replied slowly, taking her time to run the flashlight beam from the ground to the walls on either side of them. She noticed that they housed a variety of carvings and sketches. Words, phrases and whole paragraphs in languages she couldn't recognize. Hand prints and stick figures, drawings of animals and objects. And scattered between everything else, there were numbers (4, 8, 15...)
Kate felt a lump in her throat and she looked away quickly.
Sawyer was still working out a reply, but as Kate brought the flashlight around to the opposing wall, something caught his attention. He stopped.
"Might wanna peek at this." Kate turned just as he brought his hand up to the wall he was facing. She took a step towards him but came to an instant stop as she caught sight of the airplane that was etched into the rock. The number 815 stood boldly above the drawing, circled repeatedly. Beside it, five and a half rows of inch-long lines.
A tally.
She did the math in her head just to be sure. Then she recounted three times because it didn't really make any sense.
"Fifty-five." She finally formed the words, hoping that saying them aloud would change their meaning somehow.
But Sawyer nodded in agreement and Kate closed her eyes tightly, fighting off a wave of sudden dizziness.
"Exact number of days we've been on the island." He smiled despite himself. "Now that's just spooky, ain't it?"
Kate pulled herself away from the wall and continued walking with newfound encouragement. Sawyer spared the tally a final glance and proceeded down the hall after her.
---
Just over a minute later, the tunnel ended in a small, square room with a door stationed on each side. Kate had refused to look at the walls again up until now. A wave of relief washed over her upon finding this room completely unmarked.
She slowed and circled around to face Sawyer as he reached her. It was chillingly quiet this far into the mountain (or whatever the hell they were in.)
"Shall I pick a door first or shall you?" He tactfully broke the dead silence upon inspecting the room. Kate bit her lip. "We got this far. Don't tell me you're not the least bit curious."
"Curiosity is a dangerous thing," she replied wistfully, but turned to the doors nonetheless. She reached for the one closest to her, noting that unlike the outer door, this one had a regular knob and no keyhole. Sawyer peeled his backpack off his shoulder and produced a second flashlight, then walked over to the other door. Kate had already opened hers and he stole a peek just in time to see her walking down a shorter hallway towards yet another door.
As he turned around and reached for the doorknob, a low, foreign sound coming from beyond the door made him stop. Leaning against the cold metal, he listening. And sure enough, he heard it. Dull but steady. Annoyingly familiar yet he couldn't put a name to it. Behind him and a room away, Kate's sneakers thudded against the rock ground. Pulling back, Sawyer shrugged to no one in particular and turned the doorknob.
A strong, rotten smell hit him as soon as the door was ajar and he dropped the flashlight. It flickered as it hit the ground with a sharp clank. Sawyer brought his hand up to his face to covered his nose and mouth.
"What the hell..."
He bent down slightly and absently reached for the light with his free hand, but his wounded shoulder protested. Hissing in pain, he was forced to risk exposing himself to the smell for the sake of being free of pain. His fingers curled around the plastic handle of the flashlight and he pushed himself upright, exhaling from his nose and taking his next gulp of hair with his mouth. His stomach did a flip-flop as a bitter taste went down his throat.
"It's locked," he heard Kate comment from a distance, but he didn't bother with a reply. It had gone back to being unnerving quiet. Swallowing forcefully, Sawyer finally allowed himself to scan the premises with the light.
It was a large, rectangular room, built right into the stone with a low ceiling and choppy walls. What looked like a ventilation shaft loomed down on the door from the wall ahead, but judging by the smell, it hadn't functioned in a while. (That or something died in here recently, Sawyer mused. Oddly enough, the notion didn't even seem farfetched.) The space was cluttered with outdated furniture and mounts of apparent garbage. Stacks of papers covered every surface. and books lined the shelves that ran across both side walls. The floor was carpeted, but the fabric (once possibly a deep blue that had now faded to a sickly gray) was worn, ripped and burnt in many spots.
Sawyer took a step forward and the rumbling sound instantly returned. It was close, yet it almost sounded like it was coming at him from all sides. He could feel it vibrating in his blood.
He slowly ran the light across the room again but it flickered and then dimmed in brightness.
"Damn it, not now." Sawyer banged it against his knee but the light flashed off despite (or because of?) that. A sudden, high-pitched addition to the droning noise was the final give away. Sawyer classified the growl a second before a pair of yellow eyes and gleaming fangs charged at him.
He brought his hand up and then rammed the butt of the flashlight into the dog's massive head, disorienting it long enough throw its attack off balance. Stepping back, he turned towards the door but walked right into Kate.
"What-..." Without thinking, he pushed her back roughly, sending her to the ground. A sharp pain ran down his arm at the same time that he felt a mouthful of teeth sinking into his ankle. Sawyer let out a feral growl to match that of his attacker, then turned and kicked his leg into the wall, successfully prying the animal off him. He started for the door again but a heavy weight rammed itself into his back and sent him flying into a table, skidding across the surface briefly before slamming against the corner. Sawyer almost bit his tongue to keep from crying out as his shoulder hit the wall. He lifted his eyes and they landed on the dog (was it even a dog?) prowling around the foot of the table, stepping in and out of the light cast from Kate's flashlight in the neighboring room.
Kate.
His eyes turned to the doorway almost at the same time as the canine's. They both lunged simultaneously, but Sawyer reached for the door first. He slammed it shut and the animal flew into the steel headfirst. It wobbled and sat back for a second, shaking its head in confusion. Sawyer took this limited space of time to feel around the floor for his backpack. Damn the darkness. He couldn't see a thing.
The dog quickly recovered and it wasted no time in charging again. Sawyer was prepared for it this time. He kicked it in the muzzle before it had a chance to strike, then rolled over and under the table, swallowing back the pain it caused him and coming up on the other side.
"Sawyer!" Kate was pounding on door and his eyes had adjusted enough to make out the outline of a bookshelf that had gotten knocked down at some point and was now blocking the way out (or in.) At least he didn't have to worry about her.
His eyes turn back to the malicious yellow gaze of the canine and he felt a newfound fury. No way in hell had he made it through everything thus far only to be taken down by a damn dog living in a rock. It was stalking towards him again, growling softly and snapping at the air every so often, but it didn't look as willing to aimlessly attack this time.
"You learn fast, Cujo," Sawyer almost laughed at the idiocy of talking to an animal that was set on ripping him apart. He lifted his good hand to his shoulder and felt the warm blood gushing underneath his shirt. Backing up against the wall, he blinked back the nausea that was slowly overcoming him.
His foot touched against something soft and he spared a glance down.
His backpack.
"Easy there," Sawyer drawled as he slid down the wall carefully, keeping his eyes planted on the prowling dog. He unzipped the main pocket and dove his hand in, feeling around for the weapon he'd packed that morning. "Good dog." It gave off a snort and Sawyer allowed himself to look down again, but the break in eye contact was enough to set the animal off. It leapt forward just as Sawyer wrapped his fingers around the reassuring metal handle of his gun.
He held out his free hand and curled it around the dog's neck as it flew up against his chest, stopping its snapping jaws mere inches from his face. Its breath stank of decay and thick, hot strings of saliva flew through the air between them. It snarled and tried to wiggle around and grab his hand while its claws dug into his stomach, but Sawyer brought the handle of the gun down hard on its head and it swayed before rebounding and going in for Sawyer's face again.
Letting out an adrenaline-enduced yell, Sawyer pinned the barrel of the gun against the dog's throat. Their gazes connected for an endless second and Sawyer recognized the fire burning behind the copper yellow of the animal's eyes.
It'll come back around.
"I'm sorry." He turned, shut his eyes, and pulled the trigger.
Then he gladly gave in to the bidding darkness.
