Chapter 86
The climb up the mountain was tough and Sara struggled behind the others; she was a schoolteacher for God's sake, she didn't get to hike much. Forget going to the gym, she thought, those women ought to try this instead. The Jungle Workout.
She was soaked with sweat and she said a quick prayer of thanks that she had dressed comfortably for the plane ride home from Sydney; she had on jeans and a loose fitting t-shirt, and, she said a more fervent prayer, tennis shoes. Kicking herself she realized that she hadn't grabbed any of her clothes from the plane; they had been all over the place, where her travel bag had burst open. She hoped they had extra clothes back at their camp.
It felt like hours; the sun was hot on her neck and she actually missed the jungle, at least there was shade. The air was heavy and wet; there was no breeze to cool her and she hoped to God they found the hatch soon, so she could at least sit down and get her breath, find some shade, something. The shock was wearing off a little and she was hurting, sore; she had been in a plane crash and the thought still made her stomach watery with dread.
Locke stopped and pulled out the map and gazed at it while he tried to judge their position; they should be just about at the hatch. "Start looking around," he said, and glanced around them; they were on a high plateau dotted with boulders and scrubby underbrush; the trees were scraggly, and the only plant life that seemed to flourish was the high, dense grass. "I'm guessing it's going to be a ground hatch, and not the airlock."
They all started looking for something; Sara didn't join them, sitting under one of the runty trees instead and drinking from a water bottle Jack had given her earlier. She was exhausted, bewildered, and aching down to her very bones; she let her thoughts dwell on dreams of a hot bath and a soft bed before bringing herself back to reality. She had no idea what they were looking for, and anyway, she didn't really feel inclined to help them. She loved Jack, and always would; he had made her a whole person again, physically, and he had tried to make her whole spiritually, though that hadn't played out right for either of them. His behaviour, though, his actions were wrong and she was frightened at the change in him, and more than a little disgusted. She had always thought of Jack as her hero, her knight in shining armor, even when things fell apart; now he was just one very short step away from becoming a murderer. He'd already helped with one.
Locke noticed her sitting under the tree and he came to her, looking concerned. She looked horrible; pale and drawn, with dark circles under her eyes and tired lines around her mouth. "Hey, Sara," he asked, squatting down next to her, "You did a good job coming up the mountain. I know you're tired; if this hatch is anything like the others there will be a shower and a bed, and you'll be able to rest and eat." She didn't want to, but her eyes wandered up to Locke's at the mention of a shower and a bed; he chuckled and said, "This is an Island of miracles, Sara."
Apparently, she thought. "What other miracles have happened?"
He grinned at her and rose, rubbing the back of his head. "That is a story for another time. But believe me, they have happened." He nodded to her water bottle and said, "If you need more there's one next to my pack; help yourself. And just rest, you've had a rough day."
She smiled back, waving the bottle she held in her hand. "Thanks. If you tell me what you're looking for I may get up in a while and help."
He looked away, then glanced back at her. "I don't really know; like a submarine hatch, I guess, but buried in the ground; at least that's how the other two we found were." he shook his head. "Don't overextend yourself, Sara. Get some rest, take a nap, drink some water. Let us worry about the hatch."
She smiled and nodded, but to herself she thought, he doesn't trust me. I have to be more careful. "Okay," she said, and she drank another long sip of water before leaning back against the tree and closing her eyes; Locke smiled as she relaxed and he turned back to helping Jack and Ana. Sara cracked her eyes and watched him go; she didn't trust him either, he gave her cold chills after what he'd done to Kate.
The day was warm, but the shade was cool and a swift breeze kicked up, lifting Sara's sweaty hair from her forehead; the plateau was quiet, just the droning of insects and the distant murmur of Jack and Ana's voices and she was so tired, so exhausted...her eyes closed of their own accord and she dozed off, dreaming about black clouds and blue lightning.
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Sawyer was by the pool, in the jungle, in the glade where Eko had been killed; it was dark, but not night; the sun glimmered weakly behind a thin hazy screen of smoke. The glade was quiet and he turned around, frantically; where was Kate? He opened his mouth to call for her but there was no sound, and he clutched at his throat, screaming silently for her.
Look into the pool.
He stopped as the voice whispered in his ear; he stepped up to the little waterfall and hesitated before he looked down. There was nothing but a black swirl in the water, then it shaped and materialized into his reflection; he gasped a little as he saw himself, thin scars over his eyebrows and down one cheek; hollow, gaunt eyes and thick stubble, and a lost, hopeless look in his eyes.
He started to turn away; he couldn't stand looking at himself; movement caught his eye and the reflection shimmered then swirled into Eko. Sawyer fell to his knees by the pool, his knees getting muddy and wet, he cupped his hands in the water, but Eko just smiled and waited until the water stilled. Hello, James.
"Eko? Eko, help me. I don't know what to do." Panic flooded him and he gazed wildly around for Kate...he needed her, to ease him, to help him.
James, listen to me. You have done well but there are other obstacles ahead. Vincent will guide you, listen to him. He is not just a dog.
Sawyer's heart started to slow to a normal pace and he gazed at Eko, sadly. "Why did you do it, Ed? I could have saved you."
Eko's reflection mirrored his sad expression. It was what had to be done. You are ready, James, to do what you must. Remember your abilities, use them. All of them.
Terror gripped his heart again and he said, "Where's Kate?" The panic was washing over him again; he couldn't breathe without her next to him, the smoke was stuffy and it burned his eyes and he said, almost sobbing, "Where is she, Ed?"
Eko smiled serenely, his reflection rippling as a tiny fish jumped from the water, coming back down with a bitty splash. Listen to Vincent, James. He will steer you right. And Kate is next to you, sleeping soundly. Wake up, James. Wake up.
The dark smoke cleared as his eyes opened to warm rays of sunshine streaming through the chapel ceiling; Kate was pushing against him and touching him urgently, kissing him as soon as she realized his eyes were open. Her hands were all over him and she was shaking a little; he caught her face in his fingers and said, "Hey, Freckles, what is it?"
Her hands didn't stop moving across his chest and she said, shakily, "I had a dream, that you were gone, and I called you and called you but you were gone, then Vincent came to me and he could talk, or I could understand him, and he said that you were going to die no matter what and I should start preparing myself for it now." She dissolved into sobs.
He held her for a few seconds, then said, "And you choose to prepare by molesting me in my sleep?"
She snorted out something between a laugh and a sob, and he felt her relax just a little; she hiccupped through her tears, "It seemed like as good a plan as any."
He stroked her hair, murnuring gently against her forehead, "Kate, Kate, it was just a dream." But it wasn't; it was no coincidence that he had dreamed about Eko telling him to listen to Vincent at the same time she dreamed about Vincent, telling her to prepare for his death.
The knowledge of what lay before him made him shake; he pulled Kate to him, kissing her hungrily, as if he were a condemned man having his last meal; she slid on top of him, and he supposed he should prepare too, and he pulled Kate down to him, wrapping her hair into his fists as he fought to hold onto her, onto his life, with every ounce of the power he had within.
Very good, James. The future is not written in stone. It is like sand, ever shifting and changing; but it can be molded; you can build a sandcastle for her if you wish. There was a pause and Eko's voice whispered again, a hint of a laugh in it. Don't listen to everything Vincent says.
Shitty timing us usual, Ed, he thought, and Eko's sweet laughter echoed in his head as Kate pulled back, flushed and breathless, looking at him strangely. "What's wrong?" she panted.
His hands slid up under her shirt and caressed the muscles of her stomach; then they slid higher and Kate gasped and moaned as he moved inside her, groaning aloud at the warmth and pleasure. "Nothing, Freckles," he gasped as she rocked softly over him, her hair brushing against his face as he grasped it, pulling her lips to his. "Everything is perfect."
And it was.
