Chapter 16

A full hour bereft of any conversation was about as much as Charlie could tolerate. "So," his voice rose loudly as he walked behind Sayid and Ana, "are we going to talk about the Germans, or what?"

Sayid glanced back at him with…What else? Charlie thought. Annoyance. Sayid looked annoyed seventy percent of the time. His expression had a way of belittling a man, and that irked Charlie more than just a little bit. It would have downright maddened him if not for the fact that he felt an inexplicable need to impress the Iraqi.

Ana turned back towards him with a very similar expression printed on her brow. Might as bloody well be siblings, Charlie thought. "What?" the musician exclaimed defensively. "What? Don't you think we ought to at least talk about it? I mean, we were surrounded by gun wielding Nazis on intercontinental mystery island, after all."

Ana ran a tongue around her lips and shrugged. "Maybe they were with the Others. Maybe they left us alone just like they left Jack and Sawyer and Locke alone that day. Like you said, maybe we weren't on the list. They don't want all of us."

"Just the good ones," mumbled Charlie. "Whatever the hell that means."

Sayid nearly tripped over some fallen debris, but he steadied himself and stumbled on.

"We need to take a break," Ana insisted.

Sayid disagreed. "We will not return before nightfall if we stop now."

"So, we'll light torches." Ana glanced at the Iraqi and her eyes searched him up and down. "You're dead on your feet, Sayid. You haven't slept in at least 24 hours. We stop. We eat. Maybe you nap a little."

"I am not going to…nap."

"Then sit," she demanded.

Sayid acted as though he did not hear her and continued walking. His footfalls were surprisingly silent against the jungle floor, which was littered with all manner of fallen leaves and sticks. Ana shed her backpack and dropped it with an audible thump. "Fine," she called after him. "We're stopping. You keep going until you collapse. We'll pick you up when we pass by."

Sayid stopped walking, but he did not yet turn. Charlie stood somewhere between the two, looking from one to the other, not ready to make a choice. In the end, he knew he would follow Sayid, but after the skipped breakfast, Charlie was considerably hungry. And Sayid did look exhausted. Not that he was going to admit that to Ana.

Sayid turned slowly and began retracing his steps. "If you require a rest, Ana" he said, "simply admit the fact, and I will be glad to pause until you are prepared to journey on." He let his backpack slide from off his shoulders not far from hers, and he sat down. Ana exhaled a heavy, disgusted breath, but she refrained from saying anything. She just sat down too, followed by a relieved Charlie. The three ate some fruit before leaning their heads back on their packs.

An hour later, Ana nudged a slumbering Sayid with the toe of her shoe. He looked momentarily startled as he clawed his way to consciousness, but he rose without comment or admission, quickly took up his pack, and began walking. The other two followed.

While they walked, Ana kept shooting glances at Charlie, who was fingering something in his pocket. Charlie sensed her scrutiny and quipped, "Admiring me again, are you?"

"What's in the pocket?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said.

Sayid glanced back with curiosity at the bickering couple, and then he glanced down at Charlie's pocket. It was clear he believed Ana's assessment. Some loyalty, Charlie thought. She's not the one worth trusting.

By now Sayid had stopped walking. "What is it, Charlie?" he asked.

Reluctantly, Charlie pulled out a roll of twenties from his pocket and handed it to Sayid. Sayid took the money with a look of bewilderment.

"What? You robbed a dead man!" Ana exclaimed. "Of money you can't even use? Who are you, Sawyer?"

"Hey," insisted Charlie. "Sayid took his wallet. I just took the cash, which was in his other pocket. You know, just in case we ever…" He wouldn't allow himself to complete the hope.

Ana rolled her eyes and turned away, only to find Sayid rifling through the money and examining it. "Does anyone have a pen?" he asked.

"A pen?" Ana placed a hand firmly on one hip. "Yeah, right in my back pocket. I keep it to journal, you know. I've got to keep track of all of my wonderful adventures and share my latest crush with my diary."

Sayid shot her an incendiary glance as Charlie stepped forward and proffered him a pen with a quiet, "Yeah, I got one."

Sayid motioned for the musician to turn around so he could use Charlie's back as a living clipboard. He began writing on one of the twenty dollar bills.

"What are you doing?" Ana asked, trying to mask her curiosity with something that sounded more like condescension.

"I will need to interrogate Gale when we return, of course," he said. "I am creating a tool."

"A tool?" Ana asked. "Wanna fill me in? It might help if we work together."

"I work alone," answered Sayid, recapping the pen and handing it to Charlie. He folded the twenty and placed it in his pocket.

As they resumed their journey home, Ana fell in step behind him. "And how's that working for you?" she asked. "You know, that working alone thing? You get anything significant from him?"

Sayid did not respond.

"Look, I know we're not going to be best buds, Sayid, but we can work together. We've both been interrogators. You beat this guy so badly…he's never going to open up to you. He's always going to clam up. He's already fixed his opinion of you. But we can use that. We can make him fear you, and when he fears you enough…he can turn to me."

"Good cop, bad cop?" Sayid asked.

"Exactly," answered Ana with a smile. She didn't smile much in Sayid's presence. He was almost placated by the expression.

"Very well. We will attempt it. But if it is not successful, I am taking over the interrogation—my methods and my methods alone."

Ana nodded her head in agreement, and the two discussed their plans as Charlie trailed eagerly behind them, trying to match their pace and catch all of their conversation.