dimples, james "sawyer" ford

eleven

the feeling of confinement gnawed at lana. each day felt like an eternity, and the longer she stayed, the colder everything seemed. the once-normal-looking village had become oppressive, its quietness unnerving, the people more distant than ever.

she wasn't part of them. no one spoke to her unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, they offered only clipped, cold words. lana wasn't used to this kind of isolation. she'd been raised in chaos, in the heat of smoky bars and the noise of roaring bikes. her life had been full of loud personalities, fast talkers, and people who, despite their roughness, were loyal to the bone. but here... nothing felt real. it was all staged, controlled.

the children playing outside never smiled in her direction. the adults moved as if they were constantly aware of something lana wasn't—some unspoken rule that kept them at a distance. she could feel it. the others didn't trust her. or maybe they just didn't care about her at all.

every day, they gave her tasks—mundane, demeaning tasks like chopping wood, cleaning floors, and helping with food preparation. it was as if they were trying to break her down, keep her busy so she wouldn't question the reality of her imprisonment. but lana wasn't one to break easily.

she had kept to herself mostly, her sharp eyes watching everything, trying to figure out who these people really were. they all seemed so composed, so detached, like they were living in a world separate from the one she knew. and no one spoke to her unless they absolutely had to. even juliet, who had once pretended to offer some sliver of connection, had turned cold.

there was no camaraderie here. no shared pain or struggle. the village felt more like a cult than a community. lana was alone.

she wiped the sweat from her brow, her hands blistered from the wood axe they had given her. she had been chopping for hours under the watchful eye of one of the others—his name was danny, she thought—but he barely spoke, just watched her work with a stoic expression, like he was waiting for her to screw up.

the sun was beating down hard, and lana's muscles ached from the repetitive swing of the axe. she paused, glancing around the village, hoping to catch a glimpse of something—anything—that might give her a clue as to why they kept her here. but all she saw were the blank faces of the others, moving with that same eerie purpose.

they weren't like the people she had known. these people had a plan. but she wasn't a part of it.

she wiped her face and bent back to her work, her mind drifting as she swung the axe. memories of the crash still haunted her—waking up alone in the jungle, the desperation of survival, the thought that maybe james had survived too. that he was out there, somewhere, looking for her. but they had told her he was dead. juliet had looked her in the eyes and said it with such certainty.

the ocean stretched endlessly in every direction, the sun beating down mercilessly on the small raft as it bobbed along the waves. sawyer sat slumped against the side, his eyes squinting against the glare of the water, his thoughts heavy and brooding.

michael and jin were still working together, adjusting the sail and making small talk, but sawyer wasn't paying attention. his mind was elsewhere, as it often was. it was supposed to be their way off the damn island. but as they drifted further from shore, he couldn't shake the feeling that this might have been a mistake.

he had been running his whole life—from the cons, from the ghosts of his past, from the wreckage of his soul. and now, on this forsaken raft, surrounded by water, he was running again. except there was no destination this time. just the unknown.

"walt, you okay?" michael's voice cut through the quiet, the concern in his voice palpable as he checked on his son, who had been sitting at the edge of the raft, staring out at the horizon.

"yeah, dad," walt replied softly, his small frame hunched as he hugged his knees to his chest.

sawyer took a deep breath and lit a cigarette, letting the smoke swirl around him. his gaze wandered to the horizon again, watching for any sign of land or ships. anything that might give them hope. just as he took another drag, walt suddenly stood up, pointing out into the distance.

"dad, look!"

michael and jin turned quickly, following the boy's outstretched finger. sawyer squinted, his heart skipping a beat as he spotted what walt was pointing at—a speck, far off on the horizon. at first, he thought it was a ship. a rescue. but then, as the object came closer, dread settled deep in his gut. it wasn't a ship. it was a boat. and it was coming straight for them.

"get ready!" michael shouted, scrambling to his feet as the boat roared toward them, the engine sputtering like a beast charging out of the depths of the ocean.

sawyer reached for the gun he'd brought with him, his fingers tightening around the grip as the boat closed in. a feeling of impending doom washed over him. he wasn't the type to believe in bad omens, but this felt wrong. all of it.

suddenly, the boat was upon them, slamming to a halt alongside the raft. several armed men stood aboard, their faces obscured by the shadows of their hoods.

"walt," one of the men growled, pointing at the boy. "give us the boy."

michael's eyes widened in horror. "no—no, you can't—!" before he could finish, gunfire erupted, and chaos broke out.

the men opened fire on the raft, the sound deafening as the bullets tore through the air. sawyer ducked, returning fire, but there were too many of them. he felt a sharp, searing pain in his shoulder as a bullet struck him, sending him reeling back against the side of the raft.

the world spun around him, his vision blurring as he struggled to stay conscious. he could hear michael screaming, could see the horror in walt's eyes as the men dragged him aboard the boat.

"walt!" michael's voice cracked as the boat began to pull away, leaving the raft in shambles.

and then, in a sickening explosion of sound and fire, the raft was torn apart beneath them. the blast sent sawyer flying into the water, the force of it knocking the breath from his lungs. he struggled to the surface, gasping for air as debris floated around him. the boat and walt were gone. and the raft...was nothing but wreckage.

sawyer's shoulder throbbed with pain, but he forced himself to stay afloat, his eyes scanning the horizon for michael and jin. he gritted his teeth, the pain in his shoulder intensifying as the saltwater burned the wound. he swam toward a piece of the wreckage, the realisation sinking in like a stone in his gut.

they had failed. the raft was destroyed, and they were still trapped. and there was nothing he could do to save the boy.