Chapter 16

Locke and Boone were unaware of the drama that unfolded on the beach, as they finished fitting the base of the trebuchet into holes in the ground. The day prior, Boone had stolen the ax from camp and fashioned the pieces before night fell. Without any questions, the ax was returned, and Locke and Boone went back to the hatch and tied each piece of chopped wood together with vines. Somehow, the trebuchet they created was strong. They had done a good job. Yet… when Locke released the counterweight and the sharp stone hit the window, nothing happened.

"Son of a bitch," Boone whispered in awe.

Locke glared at the hatch. It holds all the answers… This is just a test… We'll get it open. The two men sat down around the pieces of the decimated trebuchet. They had spent most of the day building it, but now they had to reassess. Locke picked up a branch that had served as the leg of the structure, and threw it across the hole. He rubbed his eyebrows in dismay. This was supposed to work! Frustrated, Locke sat and stared at the hatch in silence.

Boone stared at Locke after several minutes. He saw a man searching for purpose. Locke was certain the hatch was his destiny, but as he sat next to the unopened door surrounded by the scraps of his failed plan, he looked utterly defeated. Boone noticed a large splinter of wood sticking out of Locke's leg. Boone silently pointed to it and Locke pulled it out and tossed it away, rubbing his leg.

"Are you okay?"

He didn't respond but after a few more moments, he looked up at Boone, and smiled.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Because I know we'll get this open," Locke said matter-of-factly.

"How do you know?"

"Because I have faith."

****Passage of Time****

Locke and Boone had set several more traps throughout the jungle on their way to and from the hatch. They checked each one as they made their way back to camp. Two boars had found their way into the traps and hung limply in the trees. One was a piglet that they bagged, but the other was much larger and the two men each grabbed a leg and dragged it through the jungle.

Once they reached camp, they were surrounded by hungry survivors who swiftly took the boars to be cleaned and gutted. Boone went off to find Shannon and Locke sat by the signal fire and sliced into a mango. Hurley walked up to him.

"Dude! You missed some crazy shit! Some French chick came and said "the Others" are coming and then stole the baby and ran off!"

Locke stood up quickly, "how long ago did this happen?"

"Dude, like hours ago. Sayid went after her, and so did Kate and Jack."

Locke looked down the beach and noticed a storm in the distance. If they went that direction, there probably wasn't a trail.

"What did she mean, "the Others are coming?"

"I dunno, but I mean Lauren got killed in the jungle. Maybe it was the monster or maybe it was some crazy island people!"

When Jack showed Locke where the fresh water was, they found two bodies tucked into an alcove in the caves. It was then that Jack relayed the secret Sayid had told him about the French transmission. Locke wasn't surprised they weren't alone on the island. But the idea that an unknown, hostile group of people were on their way to wage war with the survivors seemed unlikely. But the survivors were high strung, and what seemed even more unlikely was the group not trying to hide.

"Isn't anyone concerned about them coming?"

"Sawyer said it was all just a con so the French chick could steal the baby. He said there are no 'Others'."

Locke considered this for a moment. "Why would she steal the baby?"

"I guess cuz the Others took hers," Hurley shrugged his shoulders.

The two sat down by the fire and Locke continued to eat his mango.

****Passage of Time****

"Woah," Hurley muttered.

Locke looked to where Hurley was staring and saw quite a sight. Jack and Kate were first to walk into camp, holding the crying infant. Behind them, Sayid led Lauren forward. She blankly stared ahead, but limped along with Sayid. They made their way over to her tent, and she ducked inside alone. Jack and Kate split up, and Kate went to her own tent with the baby and Jack turned towards the pile of luggage. Locke jogged over to him.

"What happened out there?" He asked.

"I don't really know, John."

"Is the baby okay?"

"Baby's fine, it's Lauren I'm worried about."

"Where did she come from?"

"I don't know, John!" Jack was almost shouting. He turned away from Locke and rummaged through several bags. He finally found one full of women's clothing, he checked the size of a shirt and pants before pushing the clothes back into the suitcase. He walked away and set the suitcase outside of Lauren's tent, before retreating to his own.

Locke returned to the fire to think. With the group whole once more, he considered the hatch. The ax alone hadn't worked, the trebuchet hadn't worked, pounding the window until his fists bled hadn't worked. What am I supposed to do? He thought desperately. Boone's voice played through his head, "it's gonna take a stick of dynamite to open that door." The boy had seemed as eager as Locke was to open the hatch, but as it got harder and harder, the more he complained.

Without any answers, Locke finally went to bed. As he lay sleeping, he dreamt of a yellow beechcraft crashing on the island in a plume of black smoke, Boone standing before him in the jungle, covered in blood. He was repeating something over and over under his breath. Locke tried to get closer to hear him, but realized he was laying on the ground, his legs useless. He balled his fists, and tried to crawl closer to the image of Boone, but he kept moving deeper into the jungle.

"Theresa falls up the stairs, Theresa falls down the stairs." Boone's voice was a whisper but Locke heard it repeat all around him. "Theresa falls up the stairs, Theresa falls down the stairs." Locke continued to crawl across the jungle floor, and he begged the Island not to take it back.

Locke awoke with a start. Outside his tent, dawn had yet to break, but he heard the cries of the baby down the beach. When he exited his tent, Boone was not outside waiting for him. He went towards where Boone slept and nudged his foot. His blue eyes opened slowly, and Locke beckoned him upwards.

"Not today, Locke, I'm tired," he said groggily.

"Job's not done yet, let's go," Locke ordered and walked away. Boone sat up and rubbed his eyes, but soon stood, grabbed his pack and followed him into the jungle.

****Passage of Time****

"We're never gonna get this thing open, Locke."

They should have been near the clearing by now, but Locke had led them elsewhere. Boone had yet to notice through all his complaining. Locke stopped to tie his boot strap.

"The Island will tell us what to do."

"The Island?"

"That's right."

"That's nuts. What? Is it going to send us a sign?" Boone laughed and started to walk back towards camp. He had made it a few steps, when Locke called after him.

"Who's Theresa?"

Boone turned around, sure that he couldn't have heard him right. "How do you know about that?"

"The Island, Boone! I had a dream!" Locke began to explain his dream, but he was interrupted when overhead, a yellow beechcraft sputtered out black smoke as it nose-dived into a cliff side.

"Did you see that?" Boone asked. Locke turned to him, smiling.

They hiked across through the jungle for hours, trying to make it to the cliff. When they finally found the plane lodged atop the cliff, surrounded by the tree canopy, it looked as though it had been there for years. The two looked at each other, confused.

"I'm going up there," Locke said, taking off his pack.

"What? Are you crazy? That thing could fall any minute! You can't go up there" Boone tried to stop him but Locke pushed past him.

"Don't tell me what I can't do!"

Locke put his foot into a slot in the cliff side and reached up to grab one of the many roots that stuck out of the clay. Hoisting himself up, Locke slowly made his way upward toward the plane. He flailed his foot around, searching for another spot for his foot. After a moment of hanging there, he found one. Locke looked up to grab another branch, but as soon as he put some weight on his foot, his knee buckled and the foothold crumbled. Locke's hand was tight around the vine holding all of his body weight, but his grasp slipped and Locke plummeted to the jungle floor. He landed flat on his back and blacked out.

When he came to, Boone was standing over him. Locke looked down at the toes he couldn't feel. A wave of panic chilled him.

"Locke! Locke! Are you okay?"

"You have to go up there," Locke groaned as he forced himself upright.

Boone looked up at the plane, "I don't think so, John."

"You have to. Boone… for four years I was in a wheelchair. Paralyzed from the waist down. But when we crashed… I could walk!"

Boone stared at him skeptically, before looking back up at the plane. He walked over to the base of the cliff and started to climb.

"Be careful!" Locke called.

Boone managed to get halfway up easily, before the vine he reached for snapped and fell. Luckily, his other hand grabbed a rock and he pulled himself up. He scampered up the rest of the way to the plane that hung precariously off the edge of the cliff.

Locke waited on the ground. He moved his arms around indecisively. There was nothing he could do to help the young man.

"Boone!"

Nothing.

"BOONE!"

Suddenly, the plane lurched forward, groaning from the movement.

"BOONE, GET OUT OF THERE!"

Just as Locke finished yelling, the beechcraft came tumbling down. The tail hit the side of the cliff, tipping the plane into a nosedive. It crashed to the ground with a crunch. Locke pulled himself over to the wreckage as fast as he could, though his legs did nothing to help get him there.

"Boone…" Locke said, peering into the cabin of the plane.

Boone laid broken, covered in glass and blood. Locke put his ear to his chest and heard faint thudding. Gripping his arm, Locke heaved him out of the wreckage. He gasped for breath from the exertion, but hastily pulled himself to his feet. His toes tingled, but he locked his knees and bent forward to pick Boone up. When swung his body up onto his shoulders, suddenly, his legs felt fine. But as he walked through the jungle towards the camp with Boone on his shoulders, Locke could feel Boone's blood dripping down his arm.

****Passage of Time****

Locke made sure Jack was taking care of Boone and he bolted. He ran from his mistake. He made it to the hatch before the first tear fell. He hopped over the chasm and onto the mound that held the hatch door. Locke knelt over it and began to pound at it with his fist. He sobbed and beat the door for several minutes. He banged against the window, hoping that maybe if strength didn't crack it, grief would.

"I've done everything you wanted me to do, so why did you do this to me?!"

Tears dropped to the glass, and Locke gasped for air.

"Whut ar' ya doin.. Banging on me hatch?" slurred a voice from behind Locke.

Locke spun around and saw a disheveled man holding a bottle of booze, aiming a rifle at him.