Charlie and I talk for the duration of the storm. He clues me in on what it's like to be in a band, how his first love was actually the piano and not the guitar, and how he was forced to check his guitar during Customs and how he has little hope of finding it again on the island.
Surprisingly, after he is done ranting about himself, he asks me about my life. I tell him the basics. And I mean the basics. I totally skip everything I told Sawyer. I tell him that I live (or rather, lived) in Oxford with a friend/guardian named Donovan who is a physisist at Oxford University, how Donovan got called away to Austrailia for a few weeks to examine some area of land that was demonstrating some signs of "healing properties", how Donovan got on an early flight back to Oxford while I decided to get on a plane to L.A. and meet an old friend for a few days. Which is how I ended up here.
After that, there is a lull in the conversation, so I figure now is as good a time as any to ask him what happened when he, Jack and Kate went in search of the cockpit. Charlie's face drops from a smile for a half second, and that scares me. What could've happened out there? They all got back safely, so surely everything is okay. Right?
He takes a moment befor he answers. He looks around to make sure no one can hear us before turning back to me. He opens his mouth as though he is about to say something but then closes it as though not sure of himself.
"I can handle it, Charlie," I assure him. I'm shaking on the inside however. Was it really that bad?
"Okay, well," he begins slowly, "we found the cockpit and we went inside. I won't give you details, but there were bodies everywhere. Kate and Jack looked around for the transceiver thing while I went into the loo and got sick. When I was feeling better, I came out and saw that Jack and Kate were talking with the pilot. He was telling them how we flew off course and that rescue is looking for us in all the wrong places. He gave us the transceiver, then we came back here." He gives me a small smile as he finishes and then quickly looks away.
He changes the subject all of a sudden back to Driveshaft. But I can't hear what he's saying; the whispers have started again. They're everywhere, above me, below me, encircling me. I shut my eyes and try to block out the noise, but it doesn't help. I try to focus on breathing, to concentrate on anything else, but it's not doing any good. I open my eyes again, and just as I begin to focus on the world around me, I hear that voice again. The voice that told me to go back to Sawyer. Only this time he is saying something different. Something I hear distinctly. "He is lying." And with those words, the whispers die off.
I look back at Charlie, and he is still chatting away about Driveshaft, as though nothing had happened.
That voice. It was the same voice. Is it's owner watching me? How does it know what I am doing? I remembered what it sounds like this time. It's a man. Definitely a man. He has a grainy voice. It's deep too. But it's not a scary voice. I don't know what to make of it.
I try to focus my thoughts. What was it that He said? "He is lying." Did He mean Charlie? Is Charlie lying to me about what really happened out there? He did seem rather eager to change the subject. But at the same time, he seems like a nice enough guy. Would he really lie to me?
I decide to call him on it. Worst case scenario: I'm wrong. And besides, last time I listened to His voice, everything turned out okay. Maybe He'll be right again.
"Wait," I say to Charlie. He stops mid-sentence and looks at me. "You said that the pilot gave you the transceiver and told you that we were off course?"
"Yeah," he responds.
Here it comes. Moment of truth…
"So where is the pilot?" I ask. I don't sound accusing, but rather overly curious.
He pauses for a moment and just stares at me as though contemplating how to respond. I cut in before he can say anything. "Why did you lie, Charlie? What happened to the pilot?"
"Look," he says, looking me in the eyes. "I didn't want to freak you out. I'm not even sure what happened out there." He pauses again, trying to collect his thoughts. "When we were with the pilot… that thing came. It tore down the trees. Shook the jungles. I ran out of there as fast as I could. We all got separated. I thought I was done for, you know? But then I ran into Kate and we went looking for Jack. The thing had gone by then. We found Jack… but the pilot didn't make it."
"What do you mean?" I ask, although I think I understand perfectly.
"We found the pilot's body in the branches of a tree. It was weird. We didn't know what to do. We left after that. We decided not to tell anyone what happened." He is finished with his story, and although he doesn't say it, I understand everything.
That thing - that… monster - killed the pilot.
We don't say anything more to each other, and within a few minutes the rain suddenly stops, just as before. I decide to leave Charlie for the time being, to mull over what I've just heard. He doesn't follow me. As I look back over my shoulder, I see him walking over to where Claire is seated. He takes a seat next to her and they both smile. Charlie's is more pronounced than Claire's, but she does smile nonetheless.
I walk over to where a campfire was once lit. It has long since gone out and most of the ash has washed away. I don't mind. It's warm enough on this island without a campfire. I guess it was mostly used as a signal, to catch the eye of passing planes or the rescue team.
Fat chance of us being rescued now, I suppose. Not only are we a thousand miles off course, but according to that French transmission, nobody even knows where this island is. If the French lady hasn't been rescued for 16 years, then what makes us think that we have any better chances of getting home?
I mean, I know I like this place, but I never considered that getting back to Oxford (or anywhere else for that matter) to be an impossibility. What if I never see Donovan again? What if I never walk around the University's campus again? What if I never eat in a resturaunt again? Or go see a movie? Or even just relax with a cup of warm tea?
I try to push these thoughts out of my head and focus on the one main problem: survival. I'm never gonna get to know if I'll do those things again unless we can all survive on this island long enough to find out.
It's not just about finding food and water, building shelters, or constructing signal fires. It's about the polar bears, the monster, and whatever else is out there. We don't know what this island is, how big it is, or what lives here. We just know that we have to take this one day at a time and not fight amongst ourselves over trivial things because, even though most of us don't know it, we already have to fight to stay alive against all these mysteries.
It's just beginning to get dark, and I don't like thinking about having to defend myself against the unknown while I'm sitting here by myself. I take a deep breath to calm myself down. No worries. Everything will be fine. We'll work together and get through this. No big deal.
I nearly jump out of my skin when I feel someone suddenly sit down next to me. I snap my head around really quick, but I see that it's only Hurley. I sigh a breath of relief, even though my heart is pounding a million miles a minute.
"Dude, can I just sit here with you for awhile? Until I, you know, calm down?" He seems almost as shaken as I am.
"Of course, Hurley," I say. "Why? What's going on?"
"Well, cos I was just over with Jack," he explains, "and I've been seeing some pretty grim things today."
Tell me about it, I think. "Like what?" I coax.
"I mean, like, there was this U.S. Marshall on the plane," he says, "and he had, like, this giant piece of metal lodged in his stomach. And Jack had to pull it out, but now it doesn't look like that guy's gonna make it. I mean, Jack says he's gonna try and fix him, but I don't know, dude."
My heart drops at the thought of death. I've never been comfortable with the idea of people dying, and given the experience with death in my life, I'm not too happy knowing that this U.S. Marshall isn't too long for this world.
My hand reaches for the cross around my neck and the coolness of the silver on my hand comforts me. I give a silent prayer asking God to do whatever he can for this guy. Somehow, please save him. Let him make it out of this alive. Help Jack to fix him so he can live to explore this island like the rest of us. Don't take him yet.
I let my necklace drop back to my chest as I turn to Hurley, desperate to change the subject. I figure I'll make small talk about the something pointless, like this weird weather (I know, original, right?), but before I can even open my mouth, Hurley is already saying something else.
"Hey, did you know Kate is a fugitive?"
"What?!"
"I'm sorry," he quickly says. "But I had to tell someone. It's been, like, eating me alive!"
"Okay, just slow down," I say, trying to calm him and myself down. "What are you talking about? Start from the beginning."
He looks around quickly, then says, "The U.S. Marshall, like, had a picture of her, and he told Jack that she's dangerous. I saw the picture. It's ligit, man."
"Wow," is all I can bring myself to say.
"But you can't tell anyone. It'll freak everyone out… And then she might shoot us," he adds.
"She won't shoot us, Hurley," I say calmly.
"Yeah, but she might! She's got a gun!"
"I know. Hurley, it's okay. Don't worry." I'm surprisingly okay with all of this.
"Dude, you know?" he sounds dumbfounded.
"Yeah," I say. "When we went on the hike, we found out that Sawyer had taken a gun off the Marshall. We gave it to Kate. We figured it was safest with her."
"Oh, great," Hurley remarks sarcastically. "Good job. Give the gun to the fugitive."
"We didn't know she was a fugitive at the time," I explain. "And besides, who would you rather have the dangerous weapon? Kate or Sawyer?"
"I guess you're right, dude," he admits.
"Yeah," I console. "No worries."
"No worries," he repeats, smiling at me. After a pause of silence he says, "Okay. I better get back to Jack. See ya later, Lenny."
"Bye, Hurley!" A thought comes into my head. "Hey, Hurley?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't tell anyone else what you told me, okay?"
"Sure, dude!" he says as he turns his back and walks away. I hope he keeps his word.
Author's Note: Okay, so it's totally not my favorite chapter, but I needed a way for Lenny to find out about Kate's fugitivness. Next chapter will be better, promise. And what the heck is going on on Lost?? Time-travel, Widmore's an Other, Charlotte might die, and Desmond's son's name is Charlie!! I LOVE the writers. Pure genius!
Please review and let me know how I'm doing. Constructive criticism is always welcomed! And if you're not going to review, then PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE visit my profile page and vote for your favorite Lost character in my poll. Thanks to all my reviewers! Bye-bye!!