Chapter 88

Ana led Sara upstairs to the bunk room; it was totally different from the room below, wood panelling lined the walls and the floor was covered with cheap, worn carpet. There were four beds, and they weren't bunks; they were laid out like a little dorm room, with a little dresser and lamp next to each bed.

Ana opened a door on the far side of the room and smiled; she gestured inside. "A bathroom." Sara almost laughed at the look of delight on Ana's face, and she chuckled as she held up a roll of toilet paper rapturously.

Ana heard her chuckle and she waved the roll around, grinning. "Give it a week, lady, and you'll be begging me for a piece of this." She moved into the room, opening cabinets and pulling out soap and towels. "Trust me, you never realize how much you take things like running water," she turned on the faucet in the shower and smiled as water hissed out of the head, "and a toothbrush, and toothpaste, and clean towels for granted." She glanced at the toilet. "That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

Sara laughed; she couldn't help it. She tried to imagine what it had been like for them, living two months in the jungle, and with a pang she realized that she was probably going to find out. Steam started to fill the room and Ana handed her a towel and the soap and said, "Enjoy. I'll be downstairs if you need me, okay?"

Sara smiled and nodded as Ana left, shutting the door behind her. It was hard not to like them sometimes, but then she remembered Kate, holding her while she cried, and the way Jack had let John torture and kill her. Ana had been tied, of course, but Sara had the feeling that she wouldn't have stopped them either. There was something between the three of them, Jack, Kate and Ana, something harsh and cold, and she wondered what in the world had happened in the two months that they had been here.

The steam was delicious and she stood in it before slipping her clothes of and stepping into the hot water. Her sore and aching muscles started to relax and unknot as the hot water soaked her. She stood under it for a long time, letting her mind wander over the past few hours; she was kind of amazed at how easily she had let reality go, because, truthfully, this stuff was hard to swallow. It was because of Jack, of course, that she believed it, otherwise she would be sure she was in some sort of Alice-in-Wonderland altitude-induced nightmare; hell, she giggled to herself, they even had a rabbit-hole and Locke was like the White Rabbit, leading them down the path to insanity in a hurry.

The water finally started to turn cool and she shut it off with regret, reaching for the towel and drying herself off as she looked at her dirty, sweat-stained clothes. Hesitating, she wrapped the towel firmly around herself and picked up the clothes, then she opened the door and peeked out into the bunk room. Nobody there. She tiptoed out and glanced around; smiling as her eyes landed on a pair of blue satin shorts and a t-shirt with John Travolta on it, laid out on one of the beds. Ana had scribbled a note and set it next to the clothes.

I know these are hideous, but they're clean. Leave your
clothes out and I'll rinse them out with mine. Get some sleep.

She smiled again, shaking her head. The clothes were hideous. She smiled and slipped them on, then she combed her hair out with her fingers, wrapped it up in the towel and climbed wearily into one of the beds, asleep before she hit the pillow.

Jack moved quickly through the woods, headed back to the hatch; he'd been sent back to see if they were coming. Kate wasn't dead; he'd just seen her and Sawyer coming through the jungle, obviously trailing them; he smiled to himself. Locke had his suspicions when Sawyer didn't kill him outright; it didn't ring true.

He ran back towards the hatch; he had decided to take Locke's advice and turn his drive onto himself, use it to fix himself, and the irony was not lost on him, again, that he would use his drive to help rid himself of it. All of his life he had been a slave to it, forgetting to live his life along the way; he felt like chains had been lifted from him, and the only thing he really had to care about any more was Ana.

He picked up his pace; running the stairs in a stadium was good excercise, but running through the jungle had it beat by a mile. He had to hurry; he'd heard them talking and they were coming to kill Locke, for torturing and almost killling Kate. He'd seen Locke's knife slide across Kate's throat a second before Sawyer's explosion; he'd done it on purpose, though he kept that to himself. He didn't like or trust Locke but he needed him, for now, to get what he wanted, then he'd take pleasure in killing the bstard himself.

Now he was worried for Ana; he didn't think Sawyer would be very discriminating if he chose to blow the mountain to pieces to get to Locke; they were going to have to run. He didn't think they would be getting their hands on Kate again any time soon either; Sawyer would kill them all if he had to.

He came out of the jungle into the sunshine at the bottom of the mountain and looked up at the plateau high above him. He grinned, panting a little. Who needed a stadium?

Vincent growled low in his throat as they were walking; Sawyer nodded but didn't stop his conversation with Kate; she played along too, following his lead. "I can't wait to kill that son of a btch." He said it loudly, and Kate didn't flinch at the sudden change of subject; they had been talking about his middle name, which he refused to tell her.

"You're really going to kill him." It wasn't a question.

His eyes smiled at her but his lips remained hard and cold. "He cut your throat like a fucking pig, Kate. Don't you think he deserves to die?"

She hesitated, playing it up as her eyes smiled back at him. "Yeah. He does."

The bushes rattled slightly and after a minute Vincent chuffed softly. Sawyer glanced in the direction of the rustle and slyly flicked his hand. Kate giggled as a loud OOF! floated out of the jungle and Sawyer shrugged. "Loose limb."

Kate smiled and kissed him, her adrenaline thrumming as his tongue touched hers. That had been fun; she was amazed at her newfound ability to enjoy herself despite the danger instead of because of it. The sun brightened around them and jungle came alive with chirps and tweets as a small army of birds swooped into the clearing, and the air was full of flapping wings and feathers before they descended into the trees around them. Kotori came fluttering down onto Kate's shoulder, hooting as loudly as he could to be heard over the racket.

Sawyer grimaced, putting his hands over his ears; the birds were deafening. "No!" He shouted at Kotori, "This is too many!" He grabbed Kate by the arm and dragged her away until the din quieted down some and he could hear himself think.

Kate was staring back at the bird-filled clearing in shock. "I saw a movie like that once," she said, looking a little wan. He grinned and hugged her.

"That was Jack in the bushes." She had figured as much. "Locke isn't an idiot. He'll try to prepare from every angle. But I'm thinking they'll run." He glanced back at the bird army. "Spies. Hootie can't do it all by himself and we need Vincent with us. If anyone is coming we'll know."

She sighed, wrapping her arms around him. "I hope we're doing the right thing."

He smiled into her shoulder. "We are, Freckles. Trust me."

She nodded and leaned against him before they started walking again, Vincent at their heels. Kate rested her hand on his chest and said, "So what is your middle name, James?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long walk.