Locke tries to convince Hurley that he is exaggerating about the bad luck around him.

Despite Hurley's desperate warning that "The numbers are bad, the number are bad," Locke followed through on his instincts and ignited the fuse that would blow up the hatch. He had expended so much effort and had to wait for so long that nothing was going to stop him when he was this close. Jack had to tackle Hurley to keep him from getting too close at the moment of the explosion, while Kate and Locke had taken cover at a safer distance. Three sticks of dynamite exploded with tremendous force, showering the quartet with chunks of earth and a few metal pieces, but at long last the hatch had been opened.

As they peered down into the hatch, they could a long vertical cylindrical hole, and part of ladder descending into the darkness. Perhaps ten rungs were intact, with one in the middle being broken. Beyond that, nothing was visible. It was clear that something else would be needed if they were going to make a descent, and equally clear that Locke fully intended to make the descent.

Locke announced, "We will need a rope ladder. Let's see how long it has to be." He found a rock, and dropped it into the hole, timing how long it took to hit the bottom with a watch. When he heard the rock hit the bottom with a thud, he announced, "That was a little over one and a half seconds. That's about …"

"Forty-two feet." Hurley muttered.

Locke performed a mental calculation, and discovered that Hurley's prediction was in the ballpark. He noticed a strange look on Hurley's face, and suggested to him, "I think we need to talk." Hurley nodded his head.

Then speaking out loud to the entire group, Locke declared "We'll have to work on this in daylight; there is no more we can do tonight. The best thing we can do now is to head back to the caves and get some rest." With that, the group picked up their packs except for the one that contained the other three sticks of dynamite, which was left under a tree a decent distance from the path, and set off for the hour-long hike back to the caves.

Jack and Kate led the way back, with Locke and Hurley hanging some distance behind. Kate was beside herself. She had figured out that Jack had switched backpacks with her, thereby breaking his word that he would go along with the decision to let the short straws determine who would carry the dynamite, but that chauvinistic act just saved her life. In the crisis she had run away from the hatch without putting her pack down carefully as Jack and Locke had done. Had she been carrying the explosives she would have been blown to pieces like the recently departed Dr. Arzt. She wanted to throttle and thank Jack at the same time, but ended up just walking along in an uneasy silence. She felt she had to prove herself in some way since most of the islanders now regarded her as some kind of unwelcome criminal, but this so far this expedition was not going to be the answer. Jack had a smug sense of satisfaction regarding his actions, but was pretty sure this was not the time to confront Kate.

When Jack and Kate were sufficiently far ahead, Locke spoke, "So Hurley, do you have something you'd like to say? Looks like you'll burst if you don't tell someone."

"The numbers are bad luck, man, you shouldn't have blown open the hatch."

"What do you mean 'the numbers' are bad? Are you keeping something from the rest of us?"

"And you aren't?" Hurley sighed. He would have to explain himself some time anyway. "Okay, those numbers on the hatch – 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42, a friend of mine in the military heard them being broadcast from some radio in the middle of the ocean. They looked for the source, but never found it. Those were the numbers – like a serial number – on the hatch. Anyway, as a lark I used those numbers for the lottery – and won. And ever since, bad luck befalls everyone around me, but not me myself. My grandfather died right after I won, my mother broke her ankle, the house I bought her burned down, other friends died within weeks, and just now there was Arzt. I tell you, it's a curse!"

"Dare I ask how much you won?"

"Why don't we say I could pay off my backgammon debt to Walt and would never notice. And I'm going to give it to him if we both get off this island. Of course I wouldn't have tried to collect anything if I had won."

"There you go. Walt apparently didn't get any of that bad luck you claim to give anyone near you."

"Walt is different somehow. There's something weird about the lil' dude. I never saw such luck in backgammon. Why, when I once entered a statewide tournament in California and came in seventeenth. That's out of a couple thousand entrants. Maybe I should play you some time if you don't believe me."

"Oh, I believe you," replied Locke. "Please go on."

"Anyway, my friend with the numbers said his buddy in Australia knew the story behind them. That's why I went there. And the funny thing is, I bumped into Walt at the airport on the way there. Literally. I was distracted by the numbers, and he was concentrating on some hand-held video game. Based on what I know now he must have been there with his mother and stepfather, and one of them had just flown in from somewhere and was met by the other and Walt. Of course you can guess who won in the collision. In order to keep from falling on his butt Walt jumped backwards and dropped his game, but I'm kinda agile and stuck my foot out, almost catching the game, but breaking its fall so it didn't get broken. Walt thanked me and I never thought I'd see him again. And then on the flight home, there he is again, playing the same game, now with Michael of course, and he recognizes me and gives me a big smile! Somehow he is immune to my bad luck, so he probably shouldn't count."

"I think you're guilty of selective memory. There have been occasions here on the island were being near you was good luck. Take Claire for instance. Right after the crash, she couldn't move, and you helped her get to safety before a large piece of flaming debris fell on her. You saved her life. In fact, two lives: Claire and her baby. I'd say that Claire was the beneficiary of excellent luck for being near you at that time. Good and bad luck happens to everybody; you tend to obsess about the bad."

Hurley stopped. Maybe there was something to what Locke was saying. Hurley felt better, but wasn't completely convinced.

Locke went on, "Hasn't anything happened to you that you would consider bad luck?"

Hurley thought, "Well, I've been sick a couple times, but so have a lot of people, so that doesn't really mean anything. Wait a minute – I stepped on a sea urchin once when trying to learn how to fish from Jin. It hurt a lot at the time, but now it doesn't seem like such a big deal. I still say people around me have much more bad luck than I do."

They had just reached the caves, when Locke decided that this was the time to make Hurley a permanent ally, someone he could count on being on his side. "Another person who was sitting near you on that plane received quite a bit of good luck. A few rows behind you and on your left. You want to hear a secret?"

"All right. You owe me one for my lottery story."

"Sounds fair. You remember a wheelchair from the plane that landed on the beach?"

"Sure I remember, Charlie and Claire were using it to move their stuff up the beach, and just now up to the caves. It must still be around somewhere; it's useful for moving heavy stuff around."

"Well, that wheelchair was for me."