The Crash (PG) - Alias/Lost
Sep. 18th, 2008 01:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: The Crash
Author: Tommygirl/
storydivagirl
Rating: PG
Written For: Crossover challenge on request of Alias/Lost--Weiss MUST be a main character
A/N: This was much more difficult to write than I expected and it's very open-ended because the ideas started to flow...so there may be sequels someday. Much love to my girl Steph for the beta work and the promise that it's not bad at all. Feedback always appreciated.
The Crash
"’Anything is possible’ is what they say. I don't know who this 'they' is, but I think someone should kill them,” Weiss stated, sitting down on the plane across from Sydney. It was their new ritual during their travels for missions – ignore the significant others reeking havoc on their lives and commiserate with talk of movies they wanted to see and books they kept meaning to read.
“We kill enough people in our line of business, don’t you think?” Sydney replied, glancing up from her magazine.
He shrugged and replied, “I guess. Leave it to you to point out the obvious.”
“It’s what makes us different from all the bad guys.” She smiled, putting her copy of Cosmo down, and asked, “So what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She raised her eyebrow and he added, “It’s just...why didn’t you warn me not to get involved with a co-worker? You know from experience that these things end badly.”
“Well, why didn’t you stop me from going down memory lane with Vaughn?” she countered. She leaned forward and sighed, “Sometimes, no matter what someone else might suggest, you need to make a mistake. Otherwise you never know it’s a mistake.”
“When did you get so emotionally together?”
It was her turn to shrug and she answered, “I’m not. I’m just a good liar.”
Eric nodded. That was something he understood. Burying feelings and keeping up pretenses was a necessity in their line of work. He wanted to change the subject. Get off his whole “woe-is-me-Nadia-doesn’t-love-me-anymore” spiel and focus on something else. Besides, it probably wasn’t the smartest discussion to have when the two people in question were a few feet down the aisle in their own row, preparing for the same mission.
“Did you end up renting that Cary Grant movie last night?” Eric asked. It seemed like the safest topic to get them off of relationships gone bad.
“I decided to catch up on some sleep. Something tells me I’m going to need to be ready for anything considering our mission,” Sydney responded.
“Sounds smart.”
“What about you?” Sydney asked, shifting in her seat to get more comfortable.
“Not so smart. There was a Moonlighting marathon on television and I watched it.”
“Moonlighting?”
“Nothing wrong with Moonlighting,” Eric replied.
“But it’s...Moonlighting.”
“It’s a highly enjoyable show, I’ll have you know. Cybill Shepherd. Bruce Willis. Lots of banter and sexual tension. A lot like our black-ops team except that he got the girl in the end and I weep at night into my lonely bed and tiny pillow.”
Before Sydney could answer, the plane began to shake due to turbulence. Eric and Sydney exchanged glances and immediately buckled themselves in. Eric could hear Vaughn and Nadia raising questions that no one in the cockpit was answering.
A moment later, the back of the plane tore off and Eric tried not to pay attention to the fact that another few feet and he and Sydney would’ve been goners. Not that he was convinced they weren’t anyway.
“We’re gonna crash,” Sydney stated, reaching for his hand.
He took it. A part of him wanted to offer her up some “surely you jest” response, but half the plane was missing and their half of it seemed to be plummeting to the ground at an alarming speed.
**
The first clear thought in Eric’s head wasn’t “I’m alive” or “Is this heaven?” but rather “so this is what a ton of metal on your chest feels like.” He had been close to death before, after he was shot in the throat, and he remembered very clearly the weird way time seemed to stop and the thoughts that overwhelmed him.
There was none of that at the moment and he knew, without a doubt, he was still alive. In a lot of pain, but alive nonetheless.
The smell of bamboo and smoke filled the air around him and every breath he took was laboured. He tried to find his voice and managed, “Syd? Mike? Nadia?”
There were no answers. He grunted as he tried to pull himself free of whatever had him pinned down. He prayed to God that the pilot had gotten a mayday message out before they hit. If there were bad injuries, time was going to be of the essence and he was hardly doctor material.
He decided to focus on Sydney. He knew she had been next to him up until impact. She had to be the closest one to him, around there somewhere. He called out, “Syd? Sydney?”
He heard a muffled noise. He pushed himself completely free of the seats that were on top of him, ignoring the pain in his arm and head, and called out to her again, “Syd? Where are you?”
He strained his ears for any further evidence of where she was located. He nearly jumped back when he saw a hand appear from underneath the same pile of seats and metal he had escaped. Eric carefully dug until he reached her.
Eric breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Sydney’s face. She had a cut on her forehead, but she was awake and breathing. That was a definite plus. He said, “Are you okay?”
“Aside from the fact that a plane is sitting on my chest?”
“I thought you were a tough girl, Bristow. Push past the pain and all that.”
“I’m going to kick your ass when I’m free. How’s that for tough?” she commented.
Eric nodded and managed to get a large piece of metal off of her which left her enough room to crawl out of the debris. He used his hands to steady her and said, “We need to get out of here.”
“Where’s my sister? And Vaughn?”
Weiss looked around and said, “I don’t know. But we need to get our bearings before we even attempt to find them.”
Sydney didn’t argue with him and the two crawled toward the light that was filtering in through the cracks around them. The two of them grabbed a large piece of metal that was blocking the hole in the plane behind them. She motioned to him and said, “On the count of three we move this to my right.”
He nodded and soon enough they found themselves on a beach. It was dark out, the only light coming from the small fires that spread throughout the wreckage and the moonlight reflecting on the water. Water that appeared to go on forever.
“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m stuck in the sequel to Castaway?”
“That’s not funny, Eric.”
He shrugged and said, “We were on our way to Monte Carlo. How the hell did we end up on some tropical island? How far off our course did we end up?”
Sydney’s frown deepened and she replied, “We’ll worry about that later. Right now we need to look for any other survivors.” She didn’t wait for him to respond. She started walking along the perimeter of what was left of the plane, calling out to her sister and Vaughn.
Eric wiped the blood away from his cheek, not bothering to locate where it was coming from and went in the opposite direction of Syd. He shouted out for his friends, but to no avail. He was about to give up hope of their survival when Sydney screamed for him to help her.
He ran as fast as he could, slowed by the unevenness of the sand, and noticed Sydney sitting down next to Vaughn. She looked up at Weiss and said, “He’s breathing, but his pulse is weak and he’s so cold. We need to get him out of here and find some blankets.”
It looked like Vaughn was pinned under the wing of the plane. Eric groaned, not sure of what they would find when they pulled Vaughn free, and motioned to the plane. He said, “I’ll get him free, Syd. I need you to try and locate some of the blankets and pillows from the plane.”
“I don’t want to—“
Eric pulled her up and away. Vaughn looked unconscious, but he didn’t want to risk his best friend overhearing Eric’s take on his prognosis and said, “I’m worried, okay? I’m not sure what’s going to happen when we remove the wing.”
“What do you—“ her voice trailed off and she pushed the tears away. As quickly as the tears had appeared, Sydney’s face returned to her usual work neutral face and she replied, “We have to try.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to have to see that and he wanted want you to either.”
Sydney nodded and hugged Eric. She said, “I’ll find some supplies. There has to be something.” She jogged off to where they had escaped from the plane.
Eric turned back to Vaughn. He bent down and said, “Hey buddy, can you hear me?” Vaughn’s eyes fluttered open for a second, but then closed. Eric sighed and said, “I’m going to try to get you out of this, but you need to let me know if I’m hurting you more.”
The first few pieces of metal were easy enough to remove and the chair pried free with a little bit of force, revealing a large chunk of the wing. Eric looked around, trying to figure out the best angle, and praying that this didn’t kill his friend. He bent down and picked up the piece, glancing back at Vaughn for any sign of pain.
He took a deep breath and told himself to channel Arnold Schwarzenegger as he grappled with the wing, trying to toss it away from both of them. After a few attempts, he managed to toss it onto the beach, and turned back to see the damage it caused Vaughn. There was a huge gash along his side and his leg was definitely broken. As long as help got there fast enough, Vaughn would be okay.
Eric sat down next to Vaughn for a second and said, “You always have to get all the attention, don’t you?” He glanced at Vaughn who blinked his eyes opened and closed a few times and Eric added, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna move you, buddy. I just need to catch my breath.”
As Eric stood himself up and dragged Vaughn away from the wreckage and toward the trees, Sydney rushed back with a pile of blankets and a suitcase. She tossed the suitcase to Eric and stated, “I keep a small first aid kit in there. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”
He nodded and asked, “Any sign of Nadia?”
Sydney shook her head and glanced down at Vaughn, dropping the blankets and pillows on the ground in front of her. She asked, “How’s he doing?”
“Got a broken leg and I’m not sure about that cut. It doesn’t look like it’s near any major organs, but that doesn’t mean much right now, does it?”
“I guess not,” Sydney replied.
Eric pulled the first aid kit out and said, “You take care of Vaughn and I’ll look for your sister. She might’ve gotten throw free of the plane.” Eric dropped the kit next to Sydney, squeezed her shoulder, and walked off. He didn’t wait for an answer and there wasn’t time for a heart-to-heart talk about their feelings and the insanity that had occurred.
It was survival time and he would be damned if he would leave one of his co-workers unaccounted for, especially someone he cared for as much as Nadia. He did another once-around of the plane to no avail and glanced down the coastline, looking for any signs of her. He knew the jungle behind them was a small possibility, but, as much as he hated it, that would have to wait until daylight. Instead, he had to focus on what he could do. He tapped his pockets to see if his keys were still in his pocket. He pulled them out and grabbed the small flashlight that hung on the ring and shined it on the beach in front of him.
It wasn’t much, but every little bit helped, right?
Eric tried to keep his mind off horrible things - finding Nadia dead, not finding Nadia at all, never being rescued – by thinking back on all those forced hiking trips he endured when he was younger. His father was insistent that every real man knew how to survive in the woods, as if that sort of thing was a normal requirement in the twentieth century.
By this time his head was pounding, but again, he pushed past the pain and focused on memories and the importance of finding Nadia. He called out her name every few minutes, but there was no response. He turned back around, heading back toward where he had left Sydney and Vaughn, when he saw the lights coming from a little further down on the beach.
Maybe this was one of those pygmy islands that he read about in National Geographic. Maybe he had stumbled upon some tribal village that never bothered with the accoutrements of civilization.
He called out, “Hello? Anyone there? Can anyone here me?”
One of the flecks of fire moved in the night sky and he breathed a small sigh of relief. This was a good sign. It had to be a good sign.
Eric quickened his step and moved as fast as his beaten body would allow toward the light. When he reached it, he gaped in awe and horror at the group of people staring down at him as he fell in the sand. There were about twenty of them on the beach. Definitely not tribal or pygmies, but regular people.
Someone rushed over to him and said, “I knew I saw something. Another plane went down.”
“Your plane crashed? When?” Eric managed to get out. The pain was starting to take its effect and the news that there were others on the island didn’t ease his worries.
“Someone go get Jack. This man’s hurt.”
“My friend...my friend is really bad...”
Two hands wrapped around his waist and pulled him to his feet. Eric asked, “How long have you been here? Where the hell are we?”
“We were on Oceanic Flight 815 from Australia to Los Angeles,” the man responded. He pointed to a large bonfire and a few blankets with small makeshift tents. He said, “I want you to sit down and catch your breath.”
Eric shook his head and replied, “No, I have to get back. My friends are waiting for me and we’re missing someone...and...” Eric groaned. With other people on the island, they needed to destroy any classified information located on their plane. Why was he just thinking of that now? And how the hell was he going to explain to these people that he was black ops for the CIA?
Eric tried to break free of the man’s grasp and said, “People are waiting for me.”
“Let our doctor check you out and then we’ll go to your friends together,” the man replied. He pushed Eric down onto one of the blankets and looked down at him. He extended his hand and said, “I’m Sayid.”
“Eric,” he replied, shaking the man’s hand. He looked around the beach, noticing the several makeshift homes, and mumbled, “My god, how long have you been here?”
“Over a month now. When I saw your plane, I had first hoped it was to rescue us, but it looks that you suffered the same fate we did.”
Weiss nodded, unsure of what else there was to say. He tried not to think about the unlikelihood of not one, but two planes crashing on the same deserted island. He tried not to think about how the hell they ended up anywhere near a flight that was coming from Australia. He tried not to think about anything, but it wasn’t working as well as he hoped.
**
“Okay, follow the light.”
“Look, pal—“
“Jack…”
“Right. Jack. This isn’t really necessary. It’s a bump on the head.”
Jack pointed to the scar on Eric’s neck and asked, “Was this recent? Could this cause any complications?”
Eric shook his head and replied, “It was about three and a half years ago. Fully recovered. Unlike my friend who is down the beach and hurt. He has a gash in his side, but I couldn’t make out how deep it was.”
Jack nodded and said, “It seems like you’re right. It’s nothing more than a nasty bump on your head. You lucked out, Eric.”
“Not sure that’s the choice of words I’d go with considering my current situation.”
Jack laughed, which threw Eric – why would he laugh at a time like this – and replied, “Why don’t you stay here while we go search for your friends?”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“You’re still in shock. Jack’s a good man. He’ll take care of your friends,” Sayid responded.
Eric nodded, standing himself up. He looked at the two of them and replied, “I don’t doubt that, but there is something you don’t understand. I can’t let you anywhere near that plane without me.”
“Why? Were you on some sort of top secret mission?” Jack questioned with a laugh. The chuckling stopped when he saw the look on Eric’s face. His eyes widened and said, “Just when I thought I couldn’t be shocked anymore.”
“I managed to pull my friend free of wreckage. If you don’t mind coming along to have a look at him, I’d appreciate it, but I can’t let you go alone.”
“I understand.”
“And this has to stay between the three of us until I can get rid of all the evidence.”
“Get rid of?”
“There is a protocol for this sort of thing that I have to follow once I know everyone is out of the plane.”
“But there could be a working radio or—“
Eric cut Sayid off and said, “I don’t plan to do anything without first making damn sure I’ve done everything to get myself off this island. Trust me. You don’t want to see a pasty white guy walking around on a tropical island.”
**
The small fires of the plane seemed to have gone out on their own. Eric couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. He squinted and noticed Sydney leaning against one of the trees with her hand resting on Vaughn’s head. Her eyes fluttered open against the light of the torches and widened at the sight of the strangers. She jumped up and rushed over to Eric.
She hugged him and said, “Thank God. I thought I’d lost you too.”
Eric shook his head and smiled into her hair. He said, “You should know by now that it’s impossible to get rid of me.”
“I know, but—“ She pulled back and looked at him. She motioned to the two men and said, “We’re not alone on the island.”
“Their flight crashed over a month ago.”
“A month ago? And they’re still here?” Sydney replied. She whispered, “That’s not a good sign.”
“Tell me about it,” Eric replied. He pried free of Sydney’s grip on him and pointed to Vaughn. He moved over to him and shook him lightly, “Mike? I found some friends to help us, buddy.”
Jack took that as his sign to move over to where Vaughn was lying. He dropped his bag and pulled out a few bandages. He used his small flashlight and checked Vaughn’s pupils and began to examine him.
Eric tried not to notice the weird glint in Jack’s eyes and forced himself to take control of the situation. He was trained for this sort of thing. Under pressure, going on instincts, they were things he was skilled at.
He looked at Sayid and said, “Maybe you could help Jack while Sydney and I handle things on our end.”
Sayid nodded and joined Jack while Eric grabbed Sydney and moved toward the plane. He said, “Now that we know there are other people here, we need to get rid of anything that might not have been destroyed in the crash.”
“I know, I know, but I was hoping we could wait until daylight. It would be easier to see and the cockpit is empty – there could be others trapped in there,” Sydney replied.
Eric knew she didn’t want to mention aloud that Nadia could still be in there, invisible to their eyes in the dark, and he sighed. He said, “It’s not like anyone is going anywhere tonight.”
“First sign of daylight we empty the plane of anything that can be used and destroy the rest of it,” Sydney said. She rested her head on Eric’s head and added, “But right now, I’m tired...and sore...and worried about my sister and Vaughn...and...if you weren’t here, Eric, I’d be crazy by now.”
Eric rolled his eyes and said, “That’s a flat-out lie. You’re a survivor, Syd. If anyone could handle this situation, it’s you.”
“Then why are you the one taking charge?”
Eric shrugged and said, “I keep telling myself that if I stop doing things, I’ll have to deal with what happened. I mean, these people-they’ve been here for over a month and it’s like they’ve given up hope of being rescued. They’ve set up a home here. I don’t want to be stuck here, Syd.”
She took his hand and squeezed it. She said, “We won’t be. Even if the pilots weren’t able to get a mayday out with our coordinates, all the planes we use can be tracked by the necessary people.”
“It looks like your friend is going to be okay,” Jack said, pulling Eric and Sydney from their conversation.
They both hurried over to Vaughn and smiled. Sydney asked, “Are you sure?”
Jack nodded and said, “I stitched up the wound on his side, but it wasn’t too deep. I can’t fix his leg here, but I have the supplies to set it back at camp.”
“But his pulse is weak and—“
Jack raised his hand to silence Sydney and said, “He’s in shock, which isn’t surprising considering what all of you have been though. He also has a concussion, which accounts for the fever and the going in and out of consciousness, but as long as I monitor him for a few days, he should make a full recovery.” Jack glanced around and said, “It would be better to get him back to the falls.”
“The falls?” Eric questioned.
“You met the group of us that live on the beach,” Sayid began. He stopped and pointed to Jack and said, “But a few of the survivors from our flight moved inland with Jack to get out of the sun and away from the…”
“The?” Eric prompted, noticing how Sayid’s voice trailed off and the expression on Jack’s face.
“We don’t know.”
“Huh?”
“There is something on this island, something that none of us have seen, but it’s dangerous,” Sayid responded.
“Like a monster?”
“Eric,” Sydney stated with a roll of her eyes.
“What? I’m asking a simple question.”
“We don’t know what it is, but it ate our pilot.”
“Ate your pilot?”
“Yeah.”
“Ate him? As in chewed him up for a morning snack?” Eric repeated. Where on earth did the plane crash? The pits of hell?
“We tend to avoid going too far into the jungle whenever possible. That’s where it seems to be located,” Jack replied. He said, “But it’s probably best for two of you to take care of what you need to here and tomorrow all of us can head back to our camp.”
Sayid said, “We’ve been running low on some supplies, so if you’re willing to—“
Sydney spoke up before Eric could, which was good since he was still stuck on the invisible monster that ate people thing, “Of course. I’m guessing Eric explained enough to you that you can’t go near our plane, but whatever we can take, we’ll share. You helped us.”
“The two of you should rest and we’ll watch over your friend and the plane,” Sayid offered.
Eric knew he shouldn’t accept the offer, that he should be strong and let Sydney get some sleep while he started sifting through the shards of metal, but something in his gut told him he could trust the two men with them. And if the worst was true and they were going to be here for awhile, well, it was best to have friends to count on.
Eric nodded and sat down at one of the trees aside from where Vaughn was bundled up in blankets. He was slightly surprised when Sydney sat down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder, but he didn’t say anything. He understood the need to hold onto something familiar because he needed it too. In the morning, they could deal with everything else. After some sleep, they would find Nadia (alive hopefully), empty the plane, and try to make sense of this island that the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 had come to consider home.
Eric shut his eyes, welcoming the darkness, and couldn’t help but think that maybe he had jinxed himself. Maybe God was showing him that anything was possible? After all, what made that more obvious than an island with two plane crashes, a monster, and whatever else was waiting for them.
It could wait until morning.
(Fin)
Author: Tommygirl/
![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
Rating: PG
Written For: Crossover challenge on request of Alias/Lost--Weiss MUST be a main character
A/N: This was much more difficult to write than I expected and it's very open-ended because the ideas started to flow...so there may be sequels someday. Much love to my girl Steph for the beta work and the promise that it's not bad at all. Feedback always appreciated.
"’Anything is possible’ is what they say. I don't know who this 'they' is, but I think someone should kill them,” Weiss stated, sitting down on the plane across from Sydney. It was their new ritual during their travels for missions – ignore the significant others reeking havoc on their lives and commiserate with talk of movies they wanted to see and books they kept meaning to read.
“We kill enough people in our line of business, don’t you think?” Sydney replied, glancing up from her magazine.
He shrugged and replied, “I guess. Leave it to you to point out the obvious.”
“It’s what makes us different from all the bad guys.” She smiled, putting her copy of Cosmo down, and asked, “So what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She raised her eyebrow and he added, “It’s just...why didn’t you warn me not to get involved with a co-worker? You know from experience that these things end badly.”
“Well, why didn’t you stop me from going down memory lane with Vaughn?” she countered. She leaned forward and sighed, “Sometimes, no matter what someone else might suggest, you need to make a mistake. Otherwise you never know it’s a mistake.”
“When did you get so emotionally together?”
It was her turn to shrug and she answered, “I’m not. I’m just a good liar.”
Eric nodded. That was something he understood. Burying feelings and keeping up pretenses was a necessity in their line of work. He wanted to change the subject. Get off his whole “woe-is-me-Nadia-doesn’t-love-me-anymore” spiel and focus on something else. Besides, it probably wasn’t the smartest discussion to have when the two people in question were a few feet down the aisle in their own row, preparing for the same mission.
“Did you end up renting that Cary Grant movie last night?” Eric asked. It seemed like the safest topic to get them off of relationships gone bad.
“I decided to catch up on some sleep. Something tells me I’m going to need to be ready for anything considering our mission,” Sydney responded.
“Sounds smart.”
“What about you?” Sydney asked, shifting in her seat to get more comfortable.
“Not so smart. There was a Moonlighting marathon on television and I watched it.”
“Moonlighting?”
“Nothing wrong with Moonlighting,” Eric replied.
“But it’s...Moonlighting.”
“It’s a highly enjoyable show, I’ll have you know. Cybill Shepherd. Bruce Willis. Lots of banter and sexual tension. A lot like our black-ops team except that he got the girl in the end and I weep at night into my lonely bed and tiny pillow.”
Before Sydney could answer, the plane began to shake due to turbulence. Eric and Sydney exchanged glances and immediately buckled themselves in. Eric could hear Vaughn and Nadia raising questions that no one in the cockpit was answering.
A moment later, the back of the plane tore off and Eric tried not to pay attention to the fact that another few feet and he and Sydney would’ve been goners. Not that he was convinced they weren’t anyway.
“We’re gonna crash,” Sydney stated, reaching for his hand.
He took it. A part of him wanted to offer her up some “surely you jest” response, but half the plane was missing and their half of it seemed to be plummeting to the ground at an alarming speed.
**
The first clear thought in Eric’s head wasn’t “I’m alive” or “Is this heaven?” but rather “so this is what a ton of metal on your chest feels like.” He had been close to death before, after he was shot in the throat, and he remembered very clearly the weird way time seemed to stop and the thoughts that overwhelmed him.
There was none of that at the moment and he knew, without a doubt, he was still alive. In a lot of pain, but alive nonetheless.
The smell of bamboo and smoke filled the air around him and every breath he took was laboured. He tried to find his voice and managed, “Syd? Mike? Nadia?”
There were no answers. He grunted as he tried to pull himself free of whatever had him pinned down. He prayed to God that the pilot had gotten a mayday message out before they hit. If there were bad injuries, time was going to be of the essence and he was hardly doctor material.
He decided to focus on Sydney. He knew she had been next to him up until impact. She had to be the closest one to him, around there somewhere. He called out, “Syd? Sydney?”
He heard a muffled noise. He pushed himself completely free of the seats that were on top of him, ignoring the pain in his arm and head, and called out to her again, “Syd? Where are you?”
He strained his ears for any further evidence of where she was located. He nearly jumped back when he saw a hand appear from underneath the same pile of seats and metal he had escaped. Eric carefully dug until he reached her.
Eric breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Sydney’s face. She had a cut on her forehead, but she was awake and breathing. That was a definite plus. He said, “Are you okay?”
“Aside from the fact that a plane is sitting on my chest?”
“I thought you were a tough girl, Bristow. Push past the pain and all that.”
“I’m going to kick your ass when I’m free. How’s that for tough?” she commented.
Eric nodded and managed to get a large piece of metal off of her which left her enough room to crawl out of the debris. He used his hands to steady her and said, “We need to get out of here.”
“Where’s my sister? And Vaughn?”
Weiss looked around and said, “I don’t know. But we need to get our bearings before we even attempt to find them.”
Sydney didn’t argue with him and the two crawled toward the light that was filtering in through the cracks around them. The two of them grabbed a large piece of metal that was blocking the hole in the plane behind them. She motioned to him and said, “On the count of three we move this to my right.”
He nodded and soon enough they found themselves on a beach. It was dark out, the only light coming from the small fires that spread throughout the wreckage and the moonlight reflecting on the water. Water that appeared to go on forever.
“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m stuck in the sequel to Castaway?”
“That’s not funny, Eric.”
He shrugged and said, “We were on our way to Monte Carlo. How the hell did we end up on some tropical island? How far off our course did we end up?”
Sydney’s frown deepened and she replied, “We’ll worry about that later. Right now we need to look for any other survivors.” She didn’t wait for him to respond. She started walking along the perimeter of what was left of the plane, calling out to her sister and Vaughn.
Eric wiped the blood away from his cheek, not bothering to locate where it was coming from and went in the opposite direction of Syd. He shouted out for his friends, but to no avail. He was about to give up hope of their survival when Sydney screamed for him to help her.
He ran as fast as he could, slowed by the unevenness of the sand, and noticed Sydney sitting down next to Vaughn. She looked up at Weiss and said, “He’s breathing, but his pulse is weak and he’s so cold. We need to get him out of here and find some blankets.”
It looked like Vaughn was pinned under the wing of the plane. Eric groaned, not sure of what they would find when they pulled Vaughn free, and motioned to the plane. He said, “I’ll get him free, Syd. I need you to try and locate some of the blankets and pillows from the plane.”
“I don’t want to—“
Eric pulled her up and away. Vaughn looked unconscious, but he didn’t want to risk his best friend overhearing Eric’s take on his prognosis and said, “I’m worried, okay? I’m not sure what’s going to happen when we remove the wing.”
“What do you—“ her voice trailed off and she pushed the tears away. As quickly as the tears had appeared, Sydney’s face returned to her usual work neutral face and she replied, “We have to try.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to have to see that and he wanted want you to either.”
Sydney nodded and hugged Eric. She said, “I’ll find some supplies. There has to be something.” She jogged off to where they had escaped from the plane.
Eric turned back to Vaughn. He bent down and said, “Hey buddy, can you hear me?” Vaughn’s eyes fluttered open for a second, but then closed. Eric sighed and said, “I’m going to try to get you out of this, but you need to let me know if I’m hurting you more.”
The first few pieces of metal were easy enough to remove and the chair pried free with a little bit of force, revealing a large chunk of the wing. Eric looked around, trying to figure out the best angle, and praying that this didn’t kill his friend. He bent down and picked up the piece, glancing back at Vaughn for any sign of pain.
He took a deep breath and told himself to channel Arnold Schwarzenegger as he grappled with the wing, trying to toss it away from both of them. After a few attempts, he managed to toss it onto the beach, and turned back to see the damage it caused Vaughn. There was a huge gash along his side and his leg was definitely broken. As long as help got there fast enough, Vaughn would be okay.
Eric sat down next to Vaughn for a second and said, “You always have to get all the attention, don’t you?” He glanced at Vaughn who blinked his eyes opened and closed a few times and Eric added, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna move you, buddy. I just need to catch my breath.”
As Eric stood himself up and dragged Vaughn away from the wreckage and toward the trees, Sydney rushed back with a pile of blankets and a suitcase. She tossed the suitcase to Eric and stated, “I keep a small first aid kit in there. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”
He nodded and asked, “Any sign of Nadia?”
Sydney shook her head and glanced down at Vaughn, dropping the blankets and pillows on the ground in front of her. She asked, “How’s he doing?”
“Got a broken leg and I’m not sure about that cut. It doesn’t look like it’s near any major organs, but that doesn’t mean much right now, does it?”
“I guess not,” Sydney replied.
Eric pulled the first aid kit out and said, “You take care of Vaughn and I’ll look for your sister. She might’ve gotten throw free of the plane.” Eric dropped the kit next to Sydney, squeezed her shoulder, and walked off. He didn’t wait for an answer and there wasn’t time for a heart-to-heart talk about their feelings and the insanity that had occurred.
It was survival time and he would be damned if he would leave one of his co-workers unaccounted for, especially someone he cared for as much as Nadia. He did another once-around of the plane to no avail and glanced down the coastline, looking for any signs of her. He knew the jungle behind them was a small possibility, but, as much as he hated it, that would have to wait until daylight. Instead, he had to focus on what he could do. He tapped his pockets to see if his keys were still in his pocket. He pulled them out and grabbed the small flashlight that hung on the ring and shined it on the beach in front of him.
It wasn’t much, but every little bit helped, right?
Eric tried to keep his mind off horrible things - finding Nadia dead, not finding Nadia at all, never being rescued – by thinking back on all those forced hiking trips he endured when he was younger. His father was insistent that every real man knew how to survive in the woods, as if that sort of thing was a normal requirement in the twentieth century.
By this time his head was pounding, but again, he pushed past the pain and focused on memories and the importance of finding Nadia. He called out her name every few minutes, but there was no response. He turned back around, heading back toward where he had left Sydney and Vaughn, when he saw the lights coming from a little further down on the beach.
Maybe this was one of those pygmy islands that he read about in National Geographic. Maybe he had stumbled upon some tribal village that never bothered with the accoutrements of civilization.
He called out, “Hello? Anyone there? Can anyone here me?”
One of the flecks of fire moved in the night sky and he breathed a small sigh of relief. This was a good sign. It had to be a good sign.
Eric quickened his step and moved as fast as his beaten body would allow toward the light. When he reached it, he gaped in awe and horror at the group of people staring down at him as he fell in the sand. There were about twenty of them on the beach. Definitely not tribal or pygmies, but regular people.
Someone rushed over to him and said, “I knew I saw something. Another plane went down.”
“Your plane crashed? When?” Eric managed to get out. The pain was starting to take its effect and the news that there were others on the island didn’t ease his worries.
“Someone go get Jack. This man’s hurt.”
“My friend...my friend is really bad...”
Two hands wrapped around his waist and pulled him to his feet. Eric asked, “How long have you been here? Where the hell are we?”
“We were on Oceanic Flight 815 from Australia to Los Angeles,” the man responded. He pointed to a large bonfire and a few blankets with small makeshift tents. He said, “I want you to sit down and catch your breath.”
Eric shook his head and replied, “No, I have to get back. My friends are waiting for me and we’re missing someone...and...” Eric groaned. With other people on the island, they needed to destroy any classified information located on their plane. Why was he just thinking of that now? And how the hell was he going to explain to these people that he was black ops for the CIA?
Eric tried to break free of the man’s grasp and said, “People are waiting for me.”
“Let our doctor check you out and then we’ll go to your friends together,” the man replied. He pushed Eric down onto one of the blankets and looked down at him. He extended his hand and said, “I’m Sayid.”
“Eric,” he replied, shaking the man’s hand. He looked around the beach, noticing the several makeshift homes, and mumbled, “My god, how long have you been here?”
“Over a month now. When I saw your plane, I had first hoped it was to rescue us, but it looks that you suffered the same fate we did.”
Weiss nodded, unsure of what else there was to say. He tried not to think about the unlikelihood of not one, but two planes crashing on the same deserted island. He tried not to think about how the hell they ended up anywhere near a flight that was coming from Australia. He tried not to think about anything, but it wasn’t working as well as he hoped.
**
“Okay, follow the light.”
“Look, pal—“
“Jack…”
“Right. Jack. This isn’t really necessary. It’s a bump on the head.”
Jack pointed to the scar on Eric’s neck and asked, “Was this recent? Could this cause any complications?”
Eric shook his head and replied, “It was about three and a half years ago. Fully recovered. Unlike my friend who is down the beach and hurt. He has a gash in his side, but I couldn’t make out how deep it was.”
Jack nodded and said, “It seems like you’re right. It’s nothing more than a nasty bump on your head. You lucked out, Eric.”
“Not sure that’s the choice of words I’d go with considering my current situation.”
Jack laughed, which threw Eric – why would he laugh at a time like this – and replied, “Why don’t you stay here while we go search for your friends?”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“You’re still in shock. Jack’s a good man. He’ll take care of your friends,” Sayid responded.
Eric nodded, standing himself up. He looked at the two of them and replied, “I don’t doubt that, but there is something you don’t understand. I can’t let you anywhere near that plane without me.”
“Why? Were you on some sort of top secret mission?” Jack questioned with a laugh. The chuckling stopped when he saw the look on Eric’s face. His eyes widened and said, “Just when I thought I couldn’t be shocked anymore.”
“I managed to pull my friend free of wreckage. If you don’t mind coming along to have a look at him, I’d appreciate it, but I can’t let you go alone.”
“I understand.”
“And this has to stay between the three of us until I can get rid of all the evidence.”
“Get rid of?”
“There is a protocol for this sort of thing that I have to follow once I know everyone is out of the plane.”
“But there could be a working radio or—“
Eric cut Sayid off and said, “I don’t plan to do anything without first making damn sure I’ve done everything to get myself off this island. Trust me. You don’t want to see a pasty white guy walking around on a tropical island.”
**
The small fires of the plane seemed to have gone out on their own. Eric couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. He squinted and noticed Sydney leaning against one of the trees with her hand resting on Vaughn’s head. Her eyes fluttered open against the light of the torches and widened at the sight of the strangers. She jumped up and rushed over to Eric.
She hugged him and said, “Thank God. I thought I’d lost you too.”
Eric shook his head and smiled into her hair. He said, “You should know by now that it’s impossible to get rid of me.”
“I know, but—“ She pulled back and looked at him. She motioned to the two men and said, “We’re not alone on the island.”
“Their flight crashed over a month ago.”
“A month ago? And they’re still here?” Sydney replied. She whispered, “That’s not a good sign.”
“Tell me about it,” Eric replied. He pried free of Sydney’s grip on him and pointed to Vaughn. He moved over to him and shook him lightly, “Mike? I found some friends to help us, buddy.”
Jack took that as his sign to move over to where Vaughn was lying. He dropped his bag and pulled out a few bandages. He used his small flashlight and checked Vaughn’s pupils and began to examine him.
Eric tried not to notice the weird glint in Jack’s eyes and forced himself to take control of the situation. He was trained for this sort of thing. Under pressure, going on instincts, they were things he was skilled at.
He looked at Sayid and said, “Maybe you could help Jack while Sydney and I handle things on our end.”
Sayid nodded and joined Jack while Eric grabbed Sydney and moved toward the plane. He said, “Now that we know there are other people here, we need to get rid of anything that might not have been destroyed in the crash.”
“I know, I know, but I was hoping we could wait until daylight. It would be easier to see and the cockpit is empty – there could be others trapped in there,” Sydney replied.
Eric knew she didn’t want to mention aloud that Nadia could still be in there, invisible to their eyes in the dark, and he sighed. He said, “It’s not like anyone is going anywhere tonight.”
“First sign of daylight we empty the plane of anything that can be used and destroy the rest of it,” Sydney said. She rested her head on Eric’s head and added, “But right now, I’m tired...and sore...and worried about my sister and Vaughn...and...if you weren’t here, Eric, I’d be crazy by now.”
Eric rolled his eyes and said, “That’s a flat-out lie. You’re a survivor, Syd. If anyone could handle this situation, it’s you.”
“Then why are you the one taking charge?”
Eric shrugged and said, “I keep telling myself that if I stop doing things, I’ll have to deal with what happened. I mean, these people-they’ve been here for over a month and it’s like they’ve given up hope of being rescued. They’ve set up a home here. I don’t want to be stuck here, Syd.”
She took his hand and squeezed it. She said, “We won’t be. Even if the pilots weren’t able to get a mayday out with our coordinates, all the planes we use can be tracked by the necessary people.”
“It looks like your friend is going to be okay,” Jack said, pulling Eric and Sydney from their conversation.
They both hurried over to Vaughn and smiled. Sydney asked, “Are you sure?”
Jack nodded and said, “I stitched up the wound on his side, but it wasn’t too deep. I can’t fix his leg here, but I have the supplies to set it back at camp.”
“But his pulse is weak and—“
Jack raised his hand to silence Sydney and said, “He’s in shock, which isn’t surprising considering what all of you have been though. He also has a concussion, which accounts for the fever and the going in and out of consciousness, but as long as I monitor him for a few days, he should make a full recovery.” Jack glanced around and said, “It would be better to get him back to the falls.”
“The falls?” Eric questioned.
“You met the group of us that live on the beach,” Sayid began. He stopped and pointed to Jack and said, “But a few of the survivors from our flight moved inland with Jack to get out of the sun and away from the…”
“The?” Eric prompted, noticing how Sayid’s voice trailed off and the expression on Jack’s face.
“We don’t know.”
“Huh?”
“There is something on this island, something that none of us have seen, but it’s dangerous,” Sayid responded.
“Like a monster?”
“Eric,” Sydney stated with a roll of her eyes.
“What? I’m asking a simple question.”
“We don’t know what it is, but it ate our pilot.”
“Ate your pilot?”
“Yeah.”
“Ate him? As in chewed him up for a morning snack?” Eric repeated. Where on earth did the plane crash? The pits of hell?
“We tend to avoid going too far into the jungle whenever possible. That’s where it seems to be located,” Jack replied. He said, “But it’s probably best for two of you to take care of what you need to here and tomorrow all of us can head back to our camp.”
Sayid said, “We’ve been running low on some supplies, so if you’re willing to—“
Sydney spoke up before Eric could, which was good since he was still stuck on the invisible monster that ate people thing, “Of course. I’m guessing Eric explained enough to you that you can’t go near our plane, but whatever we can take, we’ll share. You helped us.”
“The two of you should rest and we’ll watch over your friend and the plane,” Sayid offered.
Eric knew he shouldn’t accept the offer, that he should be strong and let Sydney get some sleep while he started sifting through the shards of metal, but something in his gut told him he could trust the two men with them. And if the worst was true and they were going to be here for awhile, well, it was best to have friends to count on.
Eric nodded and sat down at one of the trees aside from where Vaughn was bundled up in blankets. He was slightly surprised when Sydney sat down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder, but he didn’t say anything. He understood the need to hold onto something familiar because he needed it too. In the morning, they could deal with everything else. After some sleep, they would find Nadia (alive hopefully), empty the plane, and try to make sense of this island that the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 had come to consider home.
Eric shut his eyes, welcoming the darkness, and couldn’t help but think that maybe he had jinxed himself. Maybe God was showing him that anything was possible? After all, what made that more obvious than an island with two plane crashes, a monster, and whatever else was waiting for them.
It could wait until morning.
(Fin)