The Woman from the Plane [Lost Fanfiction]

Chapter 29: What We Die For

The group spent the next few days at the Barracks preparing for a confrontation with the man who had taken John Locke's body. They didn't know what was coming exactly—or when—but they knew that they were in for a fight.

Valerie explained what she could—she was careful not to say too much, but she genuinely didn't have much in the way of answers. The black smoke was a person, but she didn't really know how that was possible. All she knew was that he wanted to break free of the Island by destroying it, and that it was possible for him to be killed.

"We have to turn off the Island," Desmond explained.

"Turn it off?" Sawyer asked.

"All this energy—at the Swan and the Orchid. It has a source. It's why I'm here—I'm immune to it. I'm the only one who can do it. If it's off—he's just a man. That's how he can be killed."

"How can you know that?" Sawyer asked. "You from the future too, Braveheart?"

"I remember it, in a way," Desmond replied, frowning.

"Desmond is kind of unstuck from time. It's what makes him so special," Valerie explained. "Time isn't exactly a straight line to him. And he can—evidently—bounce between lines a little."

"Oh, well that explains it," Sawyer snapped sarcastically.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't understand it either," Desmond offered.

"That makes me feel worse."

Ben had been sitting quietly in the corner of the room. He frowned, tilting his head. He held up his hand to interrupt the conversation.

"What?" Sawyer asked.

"Listen."

They all fell silent. A rustling noise was coming from the basement.

"Guns," Valerie instructed quickly. "Claire, get the fuck out of here—tell the others to get ready to run. Alex, Karl, go with her."

She drew the gun at her thigh. Desmond pulled a handgun from his waistband. Ben and Sawyer grabbed rifles from the bag they had kept by the front door.

Slow creaking footsteps made their way up from the basement.

"Can it come through the tunnels?" Valerie asked Ben, an eyebrow raised.

"Not unless it's summoned. Not with the fence on."

The door behind Ben's bookshelf started to creak open.

"Hello," a voice said cautiously from the other side. "Don't shoot—it's us."

A tall figure emerged from behind the door, hands in the air.

"Richard," Ben said, frowning at him. He didn't lower the gun.

Jack followed Richard into the living room.

"You don't have Locke with you?"

"John Locke is dead," Jack replied. "That thing is not Locke."

Valerie lowered her gun, and the rest of them followed suit.

"Did you figure that out before or after you killed Jacob?" Valerie asked Jack flatly.

Jack gaped at her. "You knew?"

She shook her head. "I guessed. Ben was the one who did it last time. Of course, last time Ben was also the one who killed John," she added.

"I was?" Ben exclaimed.

"You'll remember eventually, hon," she told him casually, stepping out of the living room. "I'll go tell the others it was a false alarm."

Jack blinked, unsure of how to process what he'd just learned.