Hey guys! Sorry about the wait! This one's extra-long to make up for it.
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Lisa pumped her legs through the sand, pushing against the resistance across the beach. The crowd parted easily before her, and she pushed anyone who didn't immediately get out of her way until she was standing in front of the two men wrestling on the sand.
Sawyer clearly had the upper hand at the moment, being bigger and stronger, but Jackson was quick, and had his beloved KA-BAR in hand, waiting for the right moment to strike.
As Sawyer managed to get a hit to his nose, Jackson fell gracefully back to the sand, curling into a position that looked like a snake right before it struck.
Lisa burst between them just as Jackson leapt at Sawyer, knife ready in hand.
"Jackson, stop it!" she yelled angrily, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him back mid-leap. The velocity of her movements with the addition of Jackson's weight sent her careening to the ground, Jackson on top of her.
Jackson twisted quickly, his eyes blazing in fury as he recognized his attacker, and dealt her a swift punch in the face before turning back to Sawyer, who had hung back once Lisa had entered the fray.
Her cheek aching, Lisa clambered up and approached Jackson again, now truly pissed off. Pulling his shoulder and turning him to face her, she brought her elbow up and into his throat before he could punch her again.
Jackson gave a strangled yell of anger, falling back to clutch his old wound. Lisa turned to Sawyer, who was starting toward Jackson, a flinty look in his eye.
"Don't even think about it." She warned him, planting herself between the two men and trying not to turn her back on either. Sawyer, to her surprise, actually stopped in his tracks, looking at her with a small amount of astonishment and impression.
"Look" she panted, rubbing her cheek in what was sure to become a bruise later. "I don't care what the hell just happened, but now is not the time to fight. Jackson, keep your knife in your pants."
Jackson glared and started up towards her, then glanced at the crowd that now surrounded them and seemed to change his mind, simply turning at stalking away, shooting her a look that promised retribution.
Lisa sighed. She would deal with that later.
"And you" she continued, turning to the man Jackson was fighting. "Whatever the hell your name is-"
"Sawyer" the man interrupted, giving her a slow smile. "What's yours, Curls?"
Lisa gave him a long, frosty look that she had perfected on overly-friendly customers at the Lux. Unfortunately, it didn't really seem as effective when she was standing on a beach in torn, ragged clothes instead of a power suit in a hotel.
"I'm Lisa" she said as stiffly as possible. "What exactly were you two fighting about?"
Sawyer shrugged. "I made some observations- Armani didn't like them."
"Observations?" she asked skeptically.
"That's what I said." He snapped.
Lisa gave him a black look. "Next time, keep your observations to yourself. I won't be here to stop him from skewering you."
Sawyer simply sneered. "Wouldn't want you to stay up all night worrying about me, Curls. Don't worry, I'll keep myself in one piece for you."
She rolled her eyes and walked away, striding back to her and Jackson's campfire and sincerely hoping he wasn't there, when a shadow fell across the beach and someone ducked a bucket of water on her.
Lisa sputtered shielding her eyes and looking up at whatever asshole had chosen to bother her at this rather ill-timed moment when she realized that the water was still coming down on her head, and the dumper, was, in fact, the sky.
It was raining, though raining seemed like a weak description for the torrential downpour that had fallen from the innocuous-looking clouds hovering around all morning. Lisa could barely see five feet in front of her, and there was surprised shouting as everyone tried to take cover.
"Lisa!" a familiar voice called, and Lisa turned to see Claire beckoning to her from underneath part of the plane, joined by a few others. She almost had to swim her way over, her arms over her head trying to shield herself from the walls of water.
Ducking under the wing of the plane, she smiled at Claire. "Thanks. Wow, have you ever seen it rain so hard in your life?"
"Only in the movies." The young woman answered, moving over to give her more room.
They watched the storm in silence, observing the other castaways running around, trying to find shelter and providing it to as many as possible.
Lisa stared curiously at one man in a white plaid shirt, who hadn't moved from his spot sitting on the beach. Though the rain pummeled him in all directions, he simply raised his hands up to the sky and smiled as if he were giving thanks in church. She frowned, trying to think why he looked so familiar. His bald head finally jogged her memory.
Walking down the narrow blue carpetway of the plane, Lisa nearly tripped over a glossy flight safety manual. She picked it up from the ground and turned to the bald man sitting directly to the left of it, one of the few people on the plane before her.
"Excuse me, is this yours?"
The man looked up and gazed at her outstretched hand with a mixture of longing, anger and helplessness. "Yes, that's mine. Thank you."
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Lisa struggled, screaming for help from the other passengers no more than two feet from her. To her dismay, everyone was either screaming themselves or had their eyes tightly shut, praying or simply holding on to the best of their ability. No one could hear her cries for help.
As Jackson continued to pull her down the aisle, she caught the eye of the bald man she had spoken to earlier. He looked positively terrified, but unlike most others he was conscious and alert.
"Sir!" she shouted, trying to make herself heard. "Help me! Please!"
The bald man stared at Jackson in horror and gripped his handrests until his knuckles were white, but he didn't rise from his seat.
In one of her last moments of consciousness, the man shot her a look of anguished apology, mixed with the helplessness she had seen earlier.
Lisa turned to Claire. "Do you know who that is? The guy staying out in the rain?"
Claire shook her head. "The old one? No, he was sitting by himself last night. Pretty quiet guy. Why, do you know him?"
"I saw him on the plane. He seemed…..different then."
Claire shrugged. "He looks like some sort of religious freak to me." She suddenly seemed to remember something. "Hey, where were you last night, anyway? After that noise, I couldn't find you anywhere."
Lisa scrambled for an answer. "My friend took me back to his fire-I was pretty shook up."
Claire nodded. "Oh, Boone, that guy you were with earlier."
Lisa said nothing, hoping that Claire would assume that it was Boone. She was getting tired of skirting around the Jackson issue, and people seemed to ask her about it every five seconds.
Where was Jackson, anyway? She hadn't seen him since the fight this morning, and he certainly wasn't under the wing at the moment. Hopefully the rain had cooled off whatever rage had fueled his idiotic decision to get into a fight with Sawyer.
As Lisa relapsed into thoughts of Jackson, another roar sounded through the jungle, farther away than last night, but still tree-shakingly loud.
"There it is again." Claire whispered, clutching the edge of the plane and peering out across the beach into the jungle.
Lisa rested her hands on her knees and tried to put her mind though the levels of stress management she had learned from countless books.
Alright Lisa, don't go to pieces. What the hell is the first step? Assess the situation. Let's see, the situation is that there's a freaking dinosaur out in the jungle that could rip me to pieces! Alright, calm down. Second step: what can I do about the situation? Nothing! Sit here and possibly get eaten! God, this is not working….
"I hope they're all right." Claire remarked offhandedly as the roaring died down back into the jungle.
"Who?" Lisa asked, her eyes still tightly shut.
Claire looked at her in surprise. "Jack and the two others-they've gone into the jungle to go look for the cockpit and see if they can find the transceiver. Where were you this morning?"
Lisa's eyes snapped open. "Wait, what? Jackson's gone? What the hell would posses him-"
"-Lisa" Claire cut her off, staring warily. "Are you okay? I didn't think that you even knew the doctor. He saved my life yesterday, you know. With the wing explosion"
Lisa sank back down to the sand, sighing in relief. "Oh. The doctor's name is Jack. Jack, not Jackson." The other Jack must have been the suited man she had first mistaken for Jackson.
"Right." Claire said slowly. "Is there another Jack on the island?"
"Who's going with the doctor to find the transceiver?" Lisa asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
"A woman- I think her name was Kate- and another man who claimed to be in a band." Claire looked at her strangely. "Are you sure you're okay? You look really tense, and there's a giant bruise on your cheek."
""It's from the crash." Lisa said automatically, bringing a hand to the sore spot. "I, um, have to go. I'll be right back."
"Okay." Claire said, frowning. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"Don't ask me if I'm sure." Lisa snapped, regretting her outburst at the hurt look on Claire's face. "Sorry," she apologized swiftly as she ducked out into the rain. "It's a habit. I gotta go."
Turning, she hurried down the beach, back to what remained of her and Jackson's campsite. The rain had let up considerably, now only a drizzle, and the sun was starting to peek out from behind the clouds.
As she strode through the sand, Lisa couldn't help but take another look at the bald man, still sitting on the wet ground, looking blissfully contented. His hands had been lowered, but his face was still tilted towards the sky, catching raindrops.
Lisa felt herself inexplicably drawn to him, wondering how in the world he could look so damned happy after what had taken place. Her curiosity seemed to propel her legs, and before she knew it she was sitting down in the sand next to him.
"Hi." she said eventually, hesitant to break his silence. "I'm Lisa."
The man turned his attentions from the sky towards her. He had an angry red cut that sliced down above and below his eye, but otherwise seemed unharmed by the crash. His squinted blue eyes, bald head and toughed skin made him look like an old military veteran. As he scanned her face, his eyes lit up in slight recognition.
"Locke." he said abruptly, as if stating an answer to a question. "John Locke."
"What are you doing out here, Mr. Locke?"
He spread his arms out. "Enjoying the scenery."
Lisa eyes him warily. "It's raining."
He chuckled. "I know. But even so, it's really pretty beautiful out here."
Lisa sat back at tried to look around her the way he was, searching for beauty. Sure, the beach was the epitome of scenic, with white sand and clear blue waves lapping at the shore and framed by a lush green forest. It looked like something from a vacation ad. But it was impossible to take in the beach without noting the charred black plane body lying on it, bizarre against the picturesque background.
"I don't see it." she finally told him, shaking her head. Locke regarded her with thoughtful eyes.
"Maybe you just haven't gotten the right perspective yet." he replied simply, paused for a long moment before addressing her again.
"Where's your friend?"
"What?" Lisa asked, surprised that he actually remembered Jackson from the five seconds that she had screamed for his help on the plane.
"One of my last memories on the plane was you being dragged down the aisle by a man, screaming for help. I figured he was a friend of yours."
"No" Lisa assured him, relived to confide in someone who had witnessed her and Jackson together. "He's definitely not a friend."
Locke's eyebrows ascended into his forehead, creating shallow crevasses. "Really? That's strange." at Lisa's quizzical look, he continued. "After knocking you out, he secured you in the seat next to his and made sure you had an air mask before securing himself. I assumed you were together, though it didn't really explain why you wanted my help."
Lisa simply sat on the sand, utterly flummoxed. Once again, Jackson had done something that blurred her attempt at focusing a picture of his character, an understanding of him. Her sore throat and bruised cheekbone told her that he was a bad man, someone who was "definitely not her friend" as she had simply explained to Locke. Now the very fact that she was alive and breathing suggested that she didn't really know Jackson Rippner at all.
"You know, you have it now, if you want." Locke said casually, breaking the long silence between them. Lisa blinked, confused.
"Have what?"
"My help."
Lisa stared at him, uninhibited. "Why do you want to help me?"
Locke tilted his face back up to the sky, though the rain had stopped falling somewhere during their conversation. "Because I can."
Lisa contemplated his cryptic answer. "Thank you." she said carefully, not sure if his help was something she wanted yet or not.
"I thought you might want to know." Locke said. "Since your friend is coming toward us. He looks pretty angry."
Lisa whipped around to confirm that Jackson was, in fact, striding toward them, his face resembling a thundercloud. She jumped to her feet, wondering how Locke knew he was coming.
"I'll consider my question unanswered for the moment." Locke commented as Jackson reached them, fuming. Lisa nodded quickly before turning to face Jackson.
"We need to talk" he hissed in a low voice, grabbing her arm tightly but not hard enough to generate attention.
Lisa nodded her head in agreement, watching as a burst of surprise flashed across Jackson's eyes before disappearing.
"Yes" she agreed. "We need to talk."
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Sorry about the minimal Jackson-action in this chapter-I promise there will be much more in the next. But you got to meet Locke, a charecter you will love and loathe depending on the episode. Goodness, did you know that I'm on the fifth chapter and still haven't gotten out of the Pilot of Lost? By the season finale I'll have about 300 chapters. Ugh.
I'm posting the Locke pic now.
I know I need a new catchphrase, but for the last time, Reviews equal Happiness!