A/N: Once again, all credit goes to Hannah...without your help, this chapter would be a mess. Sorry the waits between new chapters are so long, but school and work are really tough at the moment, and I don't have a great deal of spare time. It means a lot to me to know that people are still following the story! As always, reviews keep me motivated, and more likely to keep writing! Enjoy :o)

I'm confused. I hurt. I have a headache to rival the worst hangover, but I don't recall hitting my head. Supporting myself on a shaky hand, I feel wet mud between my fingers, with damp leaves sticking to my arm. The air smells fresh, as if there has just been a storm, and dappled sunlight is falling through the trees.

I realise that someone is talking to me, a man…Southern by the way he drawls his words. His voice is soft, soothing. Something inside me turns at the sound of it; the strange familiarity of it. At the same time, I am scared. Who is he? Why does he seem to know me? I register that he mentions a horse that brought him to me. He must be crazy. I pull away from him, standing up, though my legs are somewhat shaky.

'Horse? I…I don't understand,' my voice cracks as I talk, my throat dry. Swallowing, I try to force some conviction into my speech, 'Where am I? And…who are you?'

His face clouds with fear, confusion. I realise that he is in fact quite good-looking; roughly cut sandy hair, and rugged features, with intense blue eyes. He looks older than his years, like he's seen and done too much. There is hurt there too, deep, lasting pain that cannot heal. Like me, I think, before dispelling the thought.

'You don't…you don't know me?' His voice is so full of pain, genuine hurt, and I wonder if maybe he's not so crazy after all.

'No…should I?'

'Freckles, it's me, Sawyer,' he grasps my shoulders and looks into my eyes. 'We just spent two months together stranded on a mystery island, before being caught and locked up by The Others. Don't tell me you've forgotten.'

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Pushing his hands from my shoulders, I give him a warning look.

'An island? 'Others'? I eye him sceptically. 'I've never left Iowa. I don't know what the hell you're talking about.'

I turn to walk into the dense jungle that surrounds us. I must have gone for a walk, and knocked my head after a fall – my clothes are torn and muddy – or else this is just a really bizarre dream.

'Oh, and by the way,' I call behind me, 'My name's not 'Freckles'; it's Katie.'

I start walking, pushing my way through the various plants and trees. Somehow everything seems vaguely familiar.

The last thing I remember is taking a walk through the forest behind our house. I let out a sigh of relief, standing taller, the weight of the air surrounding my home left behind. Wayne was drunk again, and I managed to slip out the back door unnoticed by him or Mom. It was early evening, and as I got deeper into the undergrowth, I heard footsteps behind me. Running, I must have tripped on a rock, and woken bruised and dirty, before this 'Sawyer' guy found me. Though he seemed concerned enough about me, I don't need looking after. I mean, I'm sixteen; I can take care of myself.

All my life I've had people telling me what to do, where to go, what to say. For once I was making my own decision, running away. But this time I was going to run and run, not once looking back. So many times I'd looked longingly out of the window, wondering what it would be like to take that snatch of freedom, that leap of faith. Only this time I was determined to make it a reality.

'Kate, stop!' I hear his voice behind me, cutting through the moist air. 'You can't keep running away from me, and I'm not letting you wander through the jungle alone.'

I turn; ready to argue my case against him, when an echo rings through the trees. The ground is shaking, and I hear the crash of trees falling. Terrified, I crouch in the leaves, taking shelter under a large plant. All at once I am a child again, hiding from Wayne as he stumbled about the house, blind drunk. Curled up, I can't see anything, I can only hear the sound of whatever creature, thing, is in the jungle. There are explosions nearby, and a stray twig slices my cheek as I look up. Feeling warm blood trickling down my face, I wipe it with my sleeve, wincing as it stings, tears coming to my eyes. Then, as suddenly as it started, it stops.

Silence.

Shakily pulling myself to my feet, I glance through the trees warily, hoping that whatever it was has no intention of returning. Hearing footsteps, I jump round, immediately on guard, but as a figure emerges from the jungle rubbing his head, I sigh.

'It's you,' I eye him cautiously, wondering if he had anything to do with what just happened.

'Yeah, 's me, Freckles. Sorry to disappoint you,' he snaps. As he draws nearer, he notices what I can only assume is an ugly gash across my face. His expression changes to one of concern, and he hurries over, tilting my face up to the light.

'Are you okay, sweetheart?' He inquires as he examines my face. A part of me wants to slap his hand away, tell him to get lost, but another part of me feels comfortable in his presence, like this is someone who has always cared for me.

'I'm fine,' I say through gritted teeth, deciding that I'm fed up of being treated inferior to everyone. 'What was that…thing, anyway?'

He glances around cautiously, as if expecting it to return, before looking me in the eye, and for the first time I see a glimmer of fear, though he quickly masks this from my curious gaze.

'Hell, sweetheart, how would I know? Maybe it's the polar bear, come back from the dead to haunt me.'

I let out a shaky laugh, though his comment about the bear confuses me. Rubbing my head, I decide that it's probably best for me not to ask questions, and I look around, wondering what to do.

'Your head okay, Freckles?'

I look up at Sawyer, nodding.

'I'll be fine. Just a headache,' I smile.

He takes a look around, weighing up the surrounding undergrowth, before glancing back over at me.

'I guess we should make a move on. Find someplace to make camp for the night.'

He starts walking back into the jungle, and I follow warily, knowing that without him, I'm lost.