Chapter 6.
The sunlight scattered oddly through the canopy. Green, yellow, brown, white, all colors dancing to form a beautiful scene. John Locke smiled as he took his next step deeper in the jungle. The humidity made him sweat, his muscles were being worked, and his mission was dire, yet he smiled. Behind him, volunteers trailed along, tripping over roots, and fanning themselves. Some, Locke knew, were silently cursing themselves for coming on this trek. But Sayid was a competent man. He was closest to Locke, followed by Charlie, a bit spacey, but seemed to have a good heart. Then was the only girl on the trek, Shannon. She was young, no older than 23, pretty but vapid. Her presence on the hike was a result of an argument with her brother, Boone, who followed too close behind her, protecting her from a threat that wasn't there. Lastly, Ethan brought up the rear. A quiet man with a serious face, he offered to accompany Locke as soon as he announced he was ready to leave but hadn't said much on the journey.
"Let's take a break here," Locke announced to the group. They were standing in a field with tall grass. Locke tipped his water bottle back, slowly allowing a small amount of water into his mouth. He only had half a bottle left to him, and they had already been hiking for two hours with no fresh water in sight. Cliffs with dry caverns, endless jungle, and fields with views of the mountains that towered above the island, but no rivers or creeks, or even streams. Twisting the cap back on, Locke heard a rustle in the grass.
"Ugh, the bugs are insane," Shannon whined smacking her leg, "I hate the jungle."
"There are bugs in the sand on the beach, too," Charlie pointed out. Shannon glared at him, before smacking her leg again, hopping on one foot, stumbling in the high grass. Boone reached out and stabilized her, but once steady Shannon wrenched her arm free and turned her glare from Charlie to Boone.
Locke heard another rustle in the grass, and a deep gruff sound, almost like a growl. Sayid's head popped up from putting his water bottle back in his pack, and peered around the field.
"Shhhh!" Locke whispered. Shannon let out a scared squeal but Boone covered her mouth. Charlie looked around wildly, as the growl seemed to get closer to them. Wind moved the grass surrounding them, and the group of survivors couldn't see what direction the sound was coming from. Frantically, each of their heads spun around hoping to see where the danger lurked.
Closer and closer, louder and louder, the guttural roaring moved through the grass. A flash of white through the moving green haze caught Locke's eye, and he motioned to the others to run. Sayid took off sprinting, then Ethan, then Charlie. Shannon froze in place, but Boone dragged her forward. Locke turned towards the direction of the white flash.
"LOCKE, COME ON!" Charlie yelled over his shoulder, as he jumped over rocks dangerously hidden beneath the grass.
Locke got a full glimpse of the oncoming beast, and swiftly unsheathed his hunting knife. It was just yards away, moving as fast as a bullet train, barrelling directly towards Locke. He pulled back, aimed, exhaled and released.
A final roar erupted from the beast as it fell just inches from Locke's feet. Blood had splattered his face, but before he could wipe it away, Locke reached down and removed the knife from between the beast's eyes.
The survivors ran back to Locke. Upon arrival, Sayid stared at the blood splattered man. Charlie stared at the beast. Shannon continued to hyperventilate.
"How did you get that on the plane?" Ethan asked, his tone inquiring rather than judgmental or suspicious.
"Checked it."
Sayid looked away from Locke and fixed his gaze on their attacker.
Dirty white fur covered the huge bear. Its teeth, almost tusks, stuck out of its open mouth. Blood ran down its face, as Locke had perfectly landed the knife between the bear's eyes. Sayid knelt down to examine closer.
"Is that a…" Charlie began.
"A polar bear." Locke finished.
"It can't be a polar bear," Boone protested.
"It's a polar bear," The rest of the survivors responded.
Locke grabbed the hand towel tied to his pack, and wiped the blood off his face and then his knife. He allowed himself one final sip of water, he had earned it after all.
"We got to keep moving, there was smoke near that valley, it may be where the cockpit ended up." The others looked at Locke incredulously, but he was already on the move. After one final glance at the bear, they followed.
****Passage of Time****
A crack of thunder interrupted the siblings' argument over how a bear could have ended up on this island. The boom rolled, and the rain began to fall heavily upon them. Locke looked up into the canopy and smiled again.
Sayid stared at the odd man, but realized the value of rain. Rain could be boiled and drunk. Rain could save them. Shannon moaned about her hair, Charlie voiced his concerns over the eeriness of the storm, and Boone had fallen again. Ethan, Sayid and Locke waited for the lagging survivors, when a faint TICKA TICKA sound was behind them. Locke spun around and saw several tree branches swaying with the wind.
"Did you see that?" Locke asked quietly.
"Yes," Ethan responded, but Sayid just stared at the moving trees.
After a moment of hearing nothing but rain, the group began their trudge forward through the storm. Eventually, they entered the valley between two green peaks, invisible through the rain. Stumbling over branches and slipping on mud, the group made their way deeper into the jungle, now miles from the beach. Ethan stopped near a tree with large leaves that gathered the falling rain. He opened his water bottle and tipped the stem towards it, getting a hare of water added to his limited supply. The others noticed him and found their own leaves of water. Among them, maybe four ounces were gathered, but Locke was grateful for what they could find, and hopeful there was more.
****Flashback****
Locke sent the fax. The clicking sound of the machine was muffled in the dank, carpeted room. The fax was 15 minutes late, but Locke sent one every work day, and he hadn't been late in months. His boss, the owner, was a much older man than Locke, and barely understood how faxes worked, but the manager of the store insisted on the new technology. Locke figured he could probably just fake some error with the machine. Nothing was going to bother Locke today. It was his 23rd birthday and after scraping and saving for over a year at this miserable little toy store, life was finally going to start for Locke.
He closed his briefcase, which held nothing important, and switched off the light in the cramped office. Locke swiftly exited the building and walked towards the bus station. Saving for his trip had left Locke without a car, but he didn't mind the bus, though the walk to the station gave him anxiety.
Hooded men walked along the other side of the road and Locke quickened his pace. The night was young, but the toystore lay on the edge of a rough neighborhood, known for its gang activity. Locke hadn't been able to shake the scrawniness of his teenage youth, but he wasn't going to be perceived as a timid victim. He raised his head and looked down the street. Blocks ahead, a couple held hands as they ducked into a thrift store.
Raucous laughter erupted from the group across the street. Locke turned his eyes, but not his head, to glance at the group. He found them pointing in his direction. Great. Locke straightened his gaze, continued walking, and was nearly hit by a Buick. It honked loudly, the group laughed louder, and Locke waved at the driver in apology. Shifting his shoulders, Locke got out of the intersection he didn't realize he had entered. He could hear the snide comments of the hooded men get closer in range. Locke sighed wishing he could walk faster without fully breaking into a sprint.
Locke passed the thrift store the couple had entered and considered diving inside. But his bus would leave soon, and there wouldn't be one for another hour, he couldn't risk being stuck at the station with these hoodlums. One foot in front of the other, Locke kept himself from looking over his shoulder. The laughter and jokes were well within earshot.
"Twiggy thinks he can run,"
"Surprised that car didn't snap him in half"
"Driver probably got distracted by the reflection off his bald spot."
Locke could see the bus station at this point, but the bullies were on his heels. Bullies, Locke thought, I thought this ended in high school.
Just two blocks away from the station, a hooded figure jogged in front of Locke cutting him off from his destination.
"Jaywalking is a crime, sir, we're gonna have to take you in," he said. Locke realized his initial thought wasn't far off, this kid couldn't be older than 18.
"Let me pass," Locke said in the sternest tone he could muster, though the fear was obvious in his voice.
"Let him pass, he says." Another figure swaggered forward. The group was surrounding him. Locke peered past the enclosing figures, hoping to see bystanders willing to save him. The desolate street stared back at him, storefronts closed but for a few, cars only driving by every 20 minutes. John Locke found himself alone with the gang.
****Flashback Ends****
The rain beat down on them, as they stared at the cockpit. After four hours in the jungle, they had finally found it, standing upright against a sturdy bunch of trees. The path forward was littered with baggage and bodies. Shannon gagged and hid in Boone's chest when she walked past a woman laying in some reeds. Her head was half missing, exposing a maggot covered brain. Charlie vomited into some bushes, but Sayid, Ethan and Locke just rushed past the woman without looking too hard. At the base of the cockpit, the group cowered from the rain.
"We need to search the wreckage, but it's practically vertical," Sayid observed. Locke craned his neck to view the inside of the plane. Passengers still sat in their seats, arms hanging in the aisle. Locke knew they wouldn't all be able to go inside to search.
"Sayid, Ethan you search that aisle, Boone, you want to help me look through that aisle?"
"What am I supposed to do?" Charlie whined.
"Search through the baggage down here with Shannon, something valuable may have fallen out," Locke ordered. Gripping the sides of the seats nearest to him, he lunged forward and raised his body into the plane.
****Flashback****
Locke raised himself onto the crutches. His head was wrapped in gauze, and he clenched his jaw in pain as the wood pushed into his armpits. Taking a step away from the bed, he stumbled a little, but put his arm out in front of him, dropping the crutch and catching himself on the dresser in front of him.
"QUIET DOWN UP THERE!" Locke's downstair's neighbor shrieked.
Breathing heavily, Locke balanced on his good leg and reached down to grab his fallen crutch. After retrieving it, he made his way to the bathroom. Inside, Locke saw his overnight bag packed and ready to go. Rage filled him as he threw the bag across the counter. It fell and hit the toilet seat with a loud CLANG. Again his neighbor shouted.
Locke fell to the floor of the bathroom as angry tears fell from his eyes. I have been living like a pauper for a year, he thought, just for those thugs to come along and ruin it all. His broken ankle ached with pain, but Locke was consumed with his thoughts. The Pacific Crest Trail was my destiny.
Everything had been planned and prepared. The money was saved, and Locke had convinced the owner of the toystore to allow him to take the time off he needed, with a guaranteed job to come back to. The gear Locke bought sat packed by the door in his apartment, waiting. The attack had left Locke with a broken ankle, a concussion and eight stitches on the back of his head. The doctors told him not to hike for at least six weeks, but knowing his luck it would take months for his ankle to heal properly. By the time Locke would be ready to go, the weather would be against him. He had already pushed back his plans once, for financial reasons, he would have to wait until next year. And that was IF Locke could scrap up the money again. The toystore didn't have health insurance, and the hospital bill from his attack had eaten into most of his savings.
Locke wanted to scream, but instead banged his fist against the floor, causing his neighbor to hit the ceiling with a broom handle, as she was like to do. His tears continued to flow as Locke shifted his casted ankle over into a more comfortable position. There was nothing for him to do but fume about the injustice of it all. How unfair life had already been to John Locke, and now this? His destiny torn away from him by some conceited teenager?
Locke closed his weeping eyes and mumbled, "Why me?"
****Flashback Ends****
Ethan whooped in delight. Locke glanced across the grim plane to see Ethan holding a purple canister. Sayid and Locke ran towards him, and Charlie and Boone celebrated as best they could without falling down to the ground below. They had found formula. Ethan opened the lid and Sayid and John peered in to see the canister was half full of powder. It wasn't a lot, but it was something.
The group cheered with relief and glee, before tucking the precious jar into Locke's pack. Locke looked at the overhead compartment Ethan had found the formula in and saw the diaper bag it came from. Locke grabbed the whole bag and swung it over his shoulder. Surely, everything inside would be useful for the baby, John thought. He turned to see Ethan staring at him with a dark expression. Locke was confused, but Ethan just smiled and turned to search through the remaining bags in the overhead compartment.
Sayid made his way into the actual cockpit of the plane, and retrieved the transceiver. Turning it on appeared to do nothing, and Sayid announced it needed fixing. The group completed their search of the plane, and carefully made their way down and out. Charlie and Shannon were hundreds of yards away from the plane when the loud screeching metallic sound roared nearby.
Charlie took off first, luckily running due East towards the beach camp. Sayid followed him into the jungle, with Ethan close behind. Boone sprinted to Shannon who was screaming at the top of her lungs, but not moving at all. He grabbed her arm with one hand and placed the other behind her back and pushed her forward so hard, she would have fallen but for her arm in his hand. They ran North East though, not following Sayid and the others. Locke looked into the direction the sound was coming from. The trees swayed violently, and the noise clicked angrily. Locke backed up into a tree just behind him, a banyan tree he knew they were called. Ducking between its many branches, Locke huddled inside.
The roaring drew nearer and nearer. A loud train whistle pierced the air, and Locke looked up to catch a glimpse of this mysterious creature. A loud crash with a solid crunch of metal and glass sounded as the cockpit of the plane landed just outside the banyan tree Locke sheltered in. Guarding himself from the debris, Locke peered through his fingers and locked eyes with the dead pilot that still sat in the captain's chair, the windshield that once protected him, now fully open to the elements. Whatever it was roared again. The sound engulfed Locke fully, evidence of its proximity. Locke broke his gaze with the dead man, and surveyed the sky above the fallen plane. The canopy of trees was still getting pelted with rain, but there was no sign of the producer of this monstrous noise. Locke waited for a few moments, searching the area for the source, but it didn't roar again. The rain kept on pouring and far away thunder boomed, and Locke continued to wait.
Suddenly, flashes of bright white flooded him. Over and over, it flashed. Locke's eyes couldn't handle the brightness, and he covered his face with his hand. The banyan tree shook as the flashing seemed to rush towards him, but Locke couldn't see the onslaught. Peeking one eye open, Locke saw the flashing stop and before him was just a bright, beautiful light. The color of candlelight but so much brighter. It shone on Locke's face and he basked in its glory.