The caves were chilly, dank, and lonely-feeling at night. I revelled in that, after the past week on the beach. That first night at the caves, it was a time of great angst for me. I felt darkly about everything, acted like I was alone in the world. It was really just ridiculous sulking, but it felt good. When I woke up the next morning on a nest of clothes and beach towels, I couldn't help but be more cheerful.
Someone had found coffee, and there were even some not-exploded sugar sachets to put in it. There was fruit, as usual, and even eggs from nearby trees. They were fried badly on a makeshift pan, but it was the concept of eggs that counted.
The thing that yanked me out of my sullen mood the most, though, was the water. Achingly cold, blissfully unsalted water. I washed most of the salt right off of me, and was able to get dry without sand sticking all over me. Fresh socks, fresh underwear . . . it was all so decadent.
I ended up missing the big cave-in scare. Not that anybody missed me in all the chaos.
I just couldn't sit around those caves anymore, doing nothing. So I decided to take a walk. I wanted to just . . . go exploring. I knew next to nothing about the wilderness, but I wasn't stupid. I brought a bunch of bright suitcase ribbons with me, tying them to trees along the way. I still felt a little wary of wandering off like this, but I was a strong and independent young woman, and tired of not being treated as such.
I didn't feel very 'I am woman; hear me roar!' when I stumbled upon Mr. Locke and screamed in surprise. He just looked up at me from the boar he was skinning.
"Hello." He said.
"Hi, John. You just . . . startled the shit out of me." I laughed, bent double and trying to still my pounding heart a little.
"What are you doing, this far from camp?"
I shrugged. "Exploring."
"Found anything interesting, yet?"
"Nope. I'm just glad that it seems I'm not utterly lost."
He leaned, looking around me and spotting all the bits of ribbon I'd left.
"Smart. There're folks on this island who wouldn't think to do that. Especially when they're only going the equivalent of a few blocks from camp."
"What? I've been walking for like two hours!" I looked back, through the trees. Only now was I starting to see how the glimpses of ribbon didn't go in a straight line, but a semicircle. "Awww, crap." I whimpered.
"It's good you ended up here, though, Cammy. Now you can help me haul this boar back to camp."
"Yay . . ." I muttered, looking at the sticky mess. "Okay, so, what exactly do I do?" the thing was already cut into sections.
"The hindquarters should have about half of the animal's meat, enough to feed the people at the caves for a while. Should be around seventy, eighty pounds. Think you can handle that?"
"Maybe." I bent down and grasped the two legs. Little bit of a squick factor there, let me tell you. It only intensified when I lifted the big hunk of pig off the ground, slightly. Intestines slithered and poured out, rolling across the grass like a living thing and landing near John's feet.
"Oops, guess I missed those." He said. "Okay, that should be all. Now try hauling it. Don't lift, just go ahead and drag it."
"Alright." I said, beating back the slight urge to vomit. I pulled the boar's ass a little ways, straining, because it was pretty heavy. Here I was, fifteen years old, about five-foot-seven, and maybe 120 pounds. John didn't tell me to forget about it, he just went back to dealing with the rest of the boar. I kept at it.
Though I took a more direct route this time, instead of arching uselessly in a near-circle, it took me almost as long to get back as it had to get out there. But it felt so damned good to drag that half-pig into that clearing, while people watched, a little astounded.
"Where'd that come from?" Hurley said, wide-eyed. I think he expected me to announce that I'd tackled it and beat it to death with my bare hands or something. I laughed, sore.
"John killed it, of course."
"Where?" Jack asked, a bit more wide-eyed than usual, and holding his shoulder.
"A little ways out. I just thought I'd do something helpful around here for once, so I brought it back. It's about half of the boar, the other half's for the people at the beach."
I didn't like thinking about the people at the beach.
"Wow." A few people said. My face was red, I knew it, but I was a little proud of myself as I dragged by own aching carcass over to a rock ledge and sat down.
"Dude, this thing's gotta be a hundred pounds." Hurley grunted after trying to lift it.
"I doubt it." I called out.
"You shouldn't have carried it by yourself."
"I'm fine, Jack. Don't tell me what I can't do." I smiled, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging it. "So, what did I miss around here today?"
Charlie was the one who launched into the story of how he'd heroically saved Jack from the cave-in. It came out a little more modest than that, but not by much. I gasped and laughed in all the right places, and at the end I found myself very glad that they were both okay. I couldn't imagine this island without Jack and/or Charlie.
Kate was still around, after freaking out over Jack. Nobody told me, but I could tell, from the way she couldn't seem to leave his side or take her eyes off him. When she wasn't looking, I glared at her a little. Make up your mind! I mentally begged her, though it was pretty clear who her choice was. She'd never really shown much interest in Sawyer, at all. But as she trudged back towards the beach in the dying light, I couldn't help but feel threatened. There was chemistry between her and Sawyer, I could feel it.
It took me a while to remember how I didn't care about him, about her, or about anyone on the beach. I was here with Charlie and Hurley and Jack, the now-peaceful Koreans, Michael and his son, and that oblivious golden retriever. I was happy. Or at least, I could kid myself into thinking I was happy.
The next morning, all fucking hell broke loose. That happened a lot around here, but this time it was different. This time it was about Sawyer. And it was number two on my list of the worst days I'd ever experienced. After that day, I began to realize how deeply and absolutely I was screwed. It was when I realized that I was in love with him.
C'mon, guys, review! Please. It really makes me feel more inclined to continue this story quickly and to bother putting effort into it. I love reviews! Suggestions for things you'd like to see are also welcome. Thanks for reading!