Part 170: Payback Part 1

The group had made it back to the beach. As they walked, Seth saw an older woman drinking some juice. He walked up and took the juice from her, gulping it down to get the Heroin taste out of his mouth. The woman looked disgusted at his rude behavior but Shanna quickly came over and apologized for him. She also promised the old woman he would pick her some fruit to make up for it.

Sayid walked over to his encampment. He placed his backpack down and walked over to Shannon. She was in her little tent, going through some of Boone’s stuff. The Iraqi stopped in front of her, waiting for her to look up. Once she did, he offered a quick smile. “How are you?” he asked ”Do you want to take a walk?”

“Sure,” she whispered, getting up.

Shannon and Sayid began their walk down the long end of the beach. Sayid looked to the horizon, then toward the tall blonde. “I spoke with Locke,” he whispered, “After Mia showed me the plane.”

“What did they say?” she inquired.

“I believe what happened was an accident.” He sighed.

“Then why did Locke lie?”

“I don’t know,” he said, turning to her, “I don’t believe he or Mia meant any harm toward Boone. In fact, Mia was the closest and she tried to save him.”

“Then why didn’t she?” Shannon demanded.

“I know how strong the need can be to find someone to blame.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” she said, disgusted.

“Shannon . .”

“JUST FORGET IT, okay?!” she stormed away.

Sayid sighed. It was half expected she would act this way. He slugged his shoulders and began to walk back toward his encampment, to work on his transmitter for the raft.


Shannon continued to storm through the beach. Boone was gone; taken from her by a lying old man. If Mia was truly going to save his life, then why didn’t she? She’s young, atheledtic; she could have been fast enough. The tall blonde vowed she would make them pay.

As she walked, she paused as she saw Jack past out. She slowly walked over and kneeled in front on him. He snored like he had just eaten thanksgiving turkey. She poked him in the stomach twice; he didn’t move. She looked around for a few seconds, seeing if no one could see her. Then she reached up and snatched the key to the gun case from his neck. Then she quickly ran off into the jungle.

As she ran, the storm had finally hit. The rain seeped from the top of the jungle canopy in sheets. Shannon ran as hard as she could, remembering what she had learned. She had overheard their conversations about the guns; she knew exactly where they were. They didn’t think she was listening but she was.

Shannon quickly found the rock and ducked under them. She reached into the area, piled with dead leaves, grabbing the metal case. She quickly put in the key to the lock and unlock the case. She grabbed a gun and held it up. Breathing deeply, she knew what she had to do. For Boone and Mandy; they both deserved justice. Then she felt a presence near her. She was too late; Sayid had come to stop her. She quickly pointed the gun in his direction but it wasn’t Sayid.

It was Sawyer.

The redneck stood there smiling at her. The rain trickled off his nose and hair stuck to the side of his face. Shannon held the gun on him, with trembling hands. “Sawyer, what are you. . .” She hesitated.

“You got guts, Legs,” he smirked, “You must be needing that gun pretty back to snatch the key from Jacky-Boy.”

“You aren’t gonna stop me!” she demanded.

“Stop you?” he said, “Who said anything about stopping you?”

Sawyer slowly walked over to the trembling blonde and kneeled beside her. He kept her eyes on her the whole time but he steadily reached down and opened the case. Shannon gulped as the southern man pulled up a gun of his own. He check ed it to make sure it was loaded and cocked back the breech. “You gonna get some payback?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Me too,” he stood up.

Sawyer then began to walk into the jungle, leaving Shannon on her knees in the rain. “Good luck,” he said ,not turning around.


Deep in the jungle, Cecil sat under a tree that hard large leaves. They served as a decent umbrella but not fully. He closed his eyes, letting the water soak over him. Then he started coughing violently. The old man leaned forward and coughed up the bile coming from his lungs. He wiped his mouth, looking at the mixture of spit and blood on the ground. Then he saw a shape from the woods coming toward him. It was Sawyer; the redneck man he befriended. At the moment, he was beginning to understand that befriendment had another motive. “WHO ARE YOU?” Cecil demanded.

Sawyer said nothing; just stared at him with complete hate.

Cecil then got up. “All those questions, about my past, and where I came from,” he grunted, “I ain’t stupid, Sawyer! You and me got history, ain’t we?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, coldly.

“Lily Ford.” The old man blinked, “You knew her, didn’t you?”

The vein to the side of Sawyer’s head was throbbing.

“ANSWER ME, DAMN YOU!!” Cecil then charged him.

By the time he reached the younger man, Sawyer grabbed him by the shoulder. Then he pulled out his gun from his side pocket and slammed it against Cecil’s temple. He then felt hard onto the ground, as some blood began to pour from the gash in his head. Sawyer the grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up, putting the gun in his face. “No, old man,” he hissed, “I damn you.”

“Who are you?” he coughed.

Sawyer then pulled out the envelope from his other back pocket. He threw it down on Cecil’s chest. “Read it.” He ordered.

Cecil didn’t move. He just stared up at him.

“READ IT!!!” Sawyer cocked back the breach on the pistol.

The old man stared up at him, then slowly began to open the letter.