Quick note: You may not like the ending of this story, which is coming up soon. Thing is, it may not end there... On the other hand, it might. I love loose ends :-

Chapter Twelve

The feel of solid land under her feet meant more to Kate than she had thought it would. It tilted crazily for a few seconds, which she knew was a natural reaction, but she refused to let it bother her. Especially not in front of her captors.

It had been a week. She'd had no idea what was happening around her, and she hadn't been able to see Sawyer again. Russell had come for her earlier that morning – very early, actually, just after sunrise, it turned out – and told her that they'd be going on land today. He had made her promise not to try and escape – she'd done so, with fingers crossed – and then informed her that if she didn't come back to the ship, Sawyer would be killed.

Now, however, he seemed to think that wasn't enough. She sighed inwardly when she saw him get the handcuffs out, but was surprised to see him only lock one of her wrists – he then attached the other end to his own wrist.

"You'd be surprised how easy some people find it to get out of these," he said quietly, and she couldn't be sure whether he was smiling or smirking.

"Can you?" she asked. His smile only widened.

"Know where we are?" was his only reply. Kate looked up and down the beach. Most of her treks had been through various bits of jungle – rarely had she travelled along the beach. But by gauging east, she knew they were a fair way north from her camp – or what had been her camp. She had no idea if it was still there. She could only hope – and that hope was running out with every day that passed.

"Vaguely," Kate replied eventually. He studied her closely.

"Any landmarks around here that you know of?" he asked. Despising herself, Kate thought carefully.

"Yes. About a mile that way, the Black Rock."

"A Black Rock?" Russ asked, amused. "That's your landmark?"

"Wait till you see it," Kate muttered in reply. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't protest to her leading the way into the jungle. Their group consisted of five men, plus Kate. Not one of them saw the pair of eyes watching them, hidden in the jungle as they passed.

"Are we there yet?" Russ asked. Kate knew he was joking, trying to lighten the dark mood which Kate suspected might be emanating from herself. She's seen the marker indicating that they had entered the Dark Territory, but hadn't pointed it out. On the one hand, she didn't want to tell them any more than she had to in order to keep her side of the deal, but then again, she thought it might be fun – in a dark humour sort of way – to tell them what Rousseau had told them, about the sickness beginning here and Montand losing his arm.

She kept quiet. She began to realise what else Russell had achieved in cuffing them together – she was technically leading the party, but with him by her side, anyone could think he was the real leader, and she was by his side.

She felt uneasy herself. They'd never had any proof of the 'sickness', and Rousseau wasn't the most reliable witness. But still... the back of her neck was prickling, and she didn't like it.

It felt good to be back on land, though. She even found herself glad that she was on the island... the dense jungle and sandy beaches felt so familiar now.

Up ahead, she saw a clearing. Looking up hopefully, she minutely increased her pace. She recognised this area... they were here.

"The Black Rock," she said aloud, and Russ looked at her. The view of the old ship was blocked by a stand of trees, and she lead the way forward. She felt her stomach flip uncertainly when she saw the crate of explosives lying open outside, but quickly clamped down on the feeling.

"My God..." Russ breathed beside her. Several of his companions muttered something amongst themselves, and one of them began scribbling on a piece of paper. Suddenly, he turned to her. "How did this get here?"

Kate shrugged. "Tsunami?" she guessed, her expression innocent. Russ frowned, and once more, Kate found her gaze drawn back to the crate. The crate of dynamite... A plan began to take shape, and it scared her as much as it would scare them.

She moved forward as casually as possible, but her heart was hammering wildly. What am I doing? she almost screamed to herself. Sure, late notice, but she should be able to think of a better plan than this.

She couldn't tell if Russell had seen the crate, as she edged closer to it with each step. Or, if he had, what it meant, because you couldn't really tell what it was until you got really close...

"Wonder what it was heading for..." Russ murmured beside her, and she glanced sideways quickly – he was still looking at the ship. She took a deep breath. Only half a step away from the dynamite...

Kate didn't think about it – she knew that if she focused on the consequences of this, if she dared imagine what could happen in the next five minutes, she give it up.

She bent down, and grabbed two sticks of dynamite. She didn't have time to choose the driest bits, or handle with care. Russ turned at her sudden movement, but didn't comprehend it. She felt a smirk of satisfaction creep across her face at that – for the first time since they'd met, she had the drop on him.

The first stick, she hurled with all her might away from them – as she'd hoped, it exploded on impact. The other, she held carefully, her breath coming fast and her heart pounding with fear and adrenaline. The force of the explosion on her right swept past her, enough to make her suck her breath in, winded. One of the men in the group, slightly closer to the blast, was knocked off his feet, and the others staggered.

For a time, there was only stillness. They were all looking at her now – and the second stick of dynamite in her right hand, held slightly aloft. She didn't have time for them. She turned to Russ.

"Take the cuffs off," she snapped. He didn't move, and after the initial flinch seemed to have regained his confidence.

"What are you doing?" he asked slowly. She no longer found his sardonic attitude funny in the least – she hated it.

"Do as I say, or I drop it," she snarled at him. His composure was shattered monetarily, and she felt another pulse of satisfaction. Then he regained his balance.

"I don't think you will," he replied calmly. She raised both eyebrows.

"You don't? Well, before we get started on that, let me tell you something... dynamite is very unstable. I don't even have to want to drop it – it could go off at any time. No warning." She could tell she was hitting something there. It scared her, but she kept going. "So I suggest you don't make any sudden movements. Don't let them –" she pointed at the other four hovering uncertainly. "Come another step closer."

"Okay," Russ said, now doing his best to keep her calm. "But I think it would be best if you put that down... slowly..."

"You do?" Kate asked, tilting her head slightly. She felt slightly giddy, and it gave her a maniacal look – which probably helped her cause. "I don't. I think it would be best if I held onto this..."

"You know what you're doing?" he asked, changing tack. "You blow us both up and you friend dies."

"Probably," Kate said, hating herself for it. But it was too late to back out now. If she gave herself up, they would almost certainly kill Sawyer to punish her. Her mind was whirring, trying to thin beyond her either being blown up or tied up. If she could get them doing what she said, hold Russ hostage and make the others release Sawyer... it sounded thin. It was better than nothing, however.

"I didn't peg you for the suicidal type," Russ said. For a second, their eyes met, and he was shocked to see the certainty in hers. Nothing that suggested she was bluffing.

"You think I'm stupid enough to think you wouldn't kill me when you were done with me anyway? Like you killed my friends?"

For a second, thinking about Jack and Claire and everyone else who could be dead, she had an odd urge. She wanted it to blow. Never before had she felt anything like it – the sudden desire to say, Fuck this, and blow the entire clearing and the stupid damn ship sky high. The irony of it didn't escape her.

Then it passed, and she was pulled back to the imminent danger, and how she'd much prefer to live.

"So killing me... you think that's worth it?"

Kate smiled, and he swallowed at the venom in it.

"I'd get them, too," she said jerking her head at his friends. "Because, you see, if this stick in my hand goes off... then so do all them." Russ looked down at the open box of explosives at her feet, and the hundred or so sticks of volatile dynamite. Now he did look nervous.

"Take the cuffs off," she repeated, and hesitantly, he withdrew a small key from his back pocket. She felt a thrill of elation, as he unlocked the cuffs binding them together. He then immediately took a step back.

His friends all had guns out. For a moment, she wondered if they'd take the risk and shoot her. There was no guarantee that the dynamite wouldn't go off if they took her out, but then it could anyway...

Gunfire.