Knowing LOST

If you’re reading this, you’re one of the most patient people on the internet. If you’re reading this, you’ve put up with numerous delays (including that one really long one that I’m very sorry for) and other hiccups. However, I also sincerely hope you’ve been treated to a pretty good story that’s highlighted a bit of the great fandom that LOST spawned.

My schedule is getting tight enough to where I can no longer even hope to write semi-regular episodes while simultaneously staying sane. I decided my best choice was to take my remaining plan for the series and condense it down into 3,000 words, calling it a series finale. In my humble writer’s opinion, it actually turned out pretty smoothly. Hopefully, you’ll feel the same way — let me know in the comments, as always.

This won’t be the site’s last post; sometime in the future, I intend to compile these stories and put them together into one big PDF format so that all of you can re-read them, free of course, on your portable reading devices of choice.

Thanks for sticking with me when by all rights you could have abandoned this story long ago. You can continue to read my nonfiction writing over at TVOvermind.com, and follow me on Twitter (@mcphersonator). I’ll have some more fiction ventures in the future, that’s for sure. But for Knowing LOST, it’s curtain time. I hope you enjoy.

—-

LOST.

The white words appeared on the black screen. Olsen reached over and paused the DVD. Jack stared in blank, open-mouthed shock at the screen. Slowly, deliberately, he looked up at Olsen.

“What did you just show me?” he asked quietly. His eyes were dark, and from the other side of the room, Ryan couldn’t see what exactly his expression was. Was he having an epiphany or a meltdown.

Olsen shrugged. “I showed you what you needed to see,” he said simply.

Jack stared at him for a long moment. He had seated himself on the ground, as had Joanna, with the DVD player in front of them. Claire was in one of the chairs, angled so that she too could see the screen, while Locke leaned on the monitors opposite her. They were all facing Olsen now.

“That was us,” Claire said, slowly. “But we never did any of that.”

Locke nodded. “I’m having trouble understanding this myself.”

Jack stood up, looking back and forth between the DVD player and Olsen. “Where did you get this?” he asked. For once, Olesn looked uncertain.

“Where did I get what?” he asked, stuttering a bit.

“The DVDs! Where did you get the DVDs?” Jack shouted.

“Where was I?” Joanna asked, but her voice went unheard.

“I…” Olsen faltered. “Someone gave them to me.”

“Who?” Jack asked. “Who are you?” He suddenly turned to Kevin and Ryan. “Who are they? Where do you come from?”

“I wish I knew,” Kevin whispered so that only Ryan could hear. Ryan chuckled, realizing moments later that it was a mistake.

Jack turned to Locke, suddenly, and grabbed the gun that was tucked loosely into his waistband. Locke recoiled, shocked.

“Jack,” he said, obviously trying to calm him down. The doctor wouldn’t listen.

“I remember seeing you on the plane, John,” Jack said. “You’re on my side, right?”

Locke glanced up at Ryan, and they made eye contact. Ryan tried to tell what Locke was thinking, but couldn’t. Locke’s eyes were simply dark pools.

“Of course, Jack,” Locke said. “Why do you need the gun?”

Olsen shifted his weight to his other foot in obvious discomfort, and Jack pointed the weapon up at him. “Stay where you are,” he warned. Holding the gun in place, he turned his head toward Locke.

“John, get those two,” Jack said. “We’re going to need to question them.”

Ryan’s thoughts flashed immediately to Sayid carving chutes of bamboo into fine points. His fingers curled into fists.

“Run,” Kevin said suddenly, quietly, to him. “Just go.”

“What about you?” Ryan asked quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere with this foot,” Kevin replied. “Go.”

Locke was almost upon them. Ryan didn’t have time to argue. He bolted for the corridor. He was focused on the ladder in front of him, just feet in front of him. It was all he could see. He heard Locke’s footsteps behind him.

“Move, John,” came Jack’s voice from even further back. “I’ve got a clear shot.”

Claire screamed. “My baby!” she cried, her voice full of desperation. “Oh, my god, my baby’s coming right now!” Ryan glanced over his shoulder. Jack had lowered the gun slightly, his attention instead focused on Claire.

That’s the doctor in him, Ryan thought, his hands finding the rungs of the ladder. He climbed up, as fast as he could, until he was free of the stagnant air of the station and out into the jungle. He collapsed onto the ground, pushing himself up onto all fours and scrambling to keep moving forward. He could see part of the question mark outlined in the grass. The Beechcraft creaked above him. He pushed himself to his feet, and heard a voice.

“Ryan.” It was Locke. He turned, slowly, to face his pursuer.

“Please,” Ryan begged. “He’s lost his marbles. We shouldn’t have shown him.”

“He couldn’t handle it,” Locke agreed. “You’re lucky Claire’s such a good actress.”

Ryan frowned at him. “What?”

“Her baby isn’t really coming. She did it to distract Jack. She cares for you.” He paused. “She sees something in you. An honesty. ” He glanced back at the hole in the ground. “You need to get as far away from here as possible,” he said. “I’ll tell Jack I couldn’t find you. He’s got the other two, so he probably won’t worry about it too much.”

Ryan nodded. “Keep Kevin safe,” he said. “And Claire.”

Locke nodded. “I’ll try my best.”

—-

“Just breathe,” Jack said to Claire, dividing his gaze between her and the stairwell Locke had just disappeared up. “You’re not having contractions.”

His voice was barely heard over the din of Claire’s screaming, which echoed throughout the small room. Kevin slumped back against the wall, watching Jack intently. Olsen was doing the same from the opposite side of the room.

A few uncomfortable minutes passed, with Claire screaming at odd intervals. Eventually, though, Kevin could tell that Jack was beginning to lose interest. “It’s just stress,” he was telling Claire. “You’re fine. The baby’s fine.” He placed a hand on Claire’s stomach for a moment. “I can feel him kick.”

There was a rumbling in the corridor, and Locke emerged through the doorway a second later. “I lost him,” he admitted.

Jack stood up from kneeling at Claire’s side. Claire’s screams had subsided surprisingly quickly. “What do you mean, you lost him?” Jack shouted. “You’re supposed to be some sort of hunter or something, John!”

Locke shrugged. “I was an amateur at best. Certainly not qualified to track humans.” He frowned. “At least we’ve got his friends,” he said. “Ryan will come back.”

Jack studied him. “You’re right,” he acknowledged eventually. He turned to Olsen, pointing the gun at him. “Go sit over there with him,” he said, jerking his head in Kevin’s direction.

Olsen obliged. Jack followed, his gun leveled Olsen’s head. Behind him, Joanna moved to comfort Claire.

“You said someone gave you the DVDs,” Jack said, the gun still pointed at Olsen’s head. “Who?”

“It’s a long story,” Olsen muttered. “You won’t believe me.”

“Perhaps you should just tell him,” Locke piped in.

“Yeah,” agreed Kevin, feeling curiosity get the better of him. “Yeah, just tell us–”

“Shut up!” Jack shouted at him, turning the gun to Kevin for a moment before shifting it back to Olsen. “You’ve got five seconds.”

“Fine, fine!” Olsen said. “I woke up on the Island, just like all of you did,” he said. “I don’t know how or why. But when I woke up, there was this man watching me. I knew who he was, because I’d seen him in that TV show. His name was Jacob. He had the box next to him, and he gave it to me. He told me what it was, and he told me it was important that you watch them. That all of you watch them. Then he just disappeared, and I spent the next few days wandering around the Island, trying to find you.”

“Who is Jacob?” Locke asked.

Kevin felt a sudden movement beside him. He could tell if Olsen was reaching for something in his pocket or simply shifting to get a better view of Locke. Neither did Jack, but it didn’t matter. The gun fired. Kevin felt warm flecks of blood splatter across his face. The ringing in his ears was unbearable.

—-

Ryan stopped running after five minutes, when he determined that he was far enough into the jungle not to be followed. He didn’t know where he was going, really, he just went forward. That seemed to be the way, just forward. It felt like he was heading toward the beach, but nothing seemed familiar in the jungle that he could use to make sure. He was lost and without a compass. It was possible that he might never make it out. Better than being shot, he supposed.

His mind flashed back to Kevin and Claire, still trapped in the room with Jack and the gun. There was nothing he could do for them now but hope that Locke lived up to his word. He could only keep on running, deeper and deeper into the labyrinthine jungle.

The leaves in the trees to his left suddenly rustled. He stopped, digging his heels into the soft ground. He knew the sound. He paused, waiting. The rustling came again, accompanied by a soft clacking noise.

He knew what that was.

He ran as fast as he could, scrambling through the foliage as fast as his legs would take him. Branches and ferns swiped at his face; roots snagged his feet. The clacking was getting louder and louder. There was the familiar howling sound in the distance. His lungs ached for air.

Suddenly, the noises all stopped. Even the natural noise of the jungle, the birds and the bugs and the wind, just stopped. There was complete and utter silence. He had to strain just to hear his own breathing.

And then he saw him.

The golden figure was dressed in white, bathed in an eerie glow that all but obscured him. He was only a few feet away from Ryan, he realized, and he took a step back as the figure advanced, barefoot, across the ground. “Jacob,” he breathed, though he couldn’t see the figure’s face. He didn’t know why the light was so bright. Maybe it was the source that caused it.

“Jacob,” he called out again, his voice faint and strained. “Help me.”

The barefoot figure took another step toward him. Ryan dropped to the ground, his legs aching, reaching out with both hands. The figure took another step, reaching out as well. Ryan felt calm, strangely, for the first time in what felt like a long time.

A tendril of black smoke seized his arm and began pulling him upward.

There was nothing he could do, nothing he could think to do. He just hung there, limp as a ragdoll, as the smoke monster pulled him slowly up into the air, towering almost to the branches of the tallest tree. The smoke snaked around his body in an iron grip. He couldn’t escape. He could hardly breathe.

Then he was falling; the monster had simply let him go. This was how it was going to kill him; not so differently from the way it had killed Eko. He plummeted, his arms flailing. He turned to see the ground rising up to him. . . and was swallowed in a bed of light.

He heard the monster howl again, heard the clacking sound as it moved away. He opened his eyes to see a cloud of bright glowing light chasing the black smoke into the jungle. He lapsed into unconsciousness. When he woke up, Jacob was standing over him. This time he could see his face.

“Ryan,” Jacob said, extending a hand. Ryan didn’t take it, instead pushing himself up. Jacob didn’t seem to notice. “I’m sorry about my brother,” he said.

“I… I didn’t know you could…” Ryan sputtered.

“…turn into a massive cloud of light?” Jacob finished, smiling. “Yeah, I don’t just tell everyone that.”

There was a pause.

“What’s happening?” Ryan asked.

Jacob continued smiling, pacing about the clearing. “You could be asking about so many things,” he said. “But you know about my war with my brother. You know about the candidates. What is that you want to know?”

“Why did he kill Seth?” Ryan asked, looking at the spot in the jungle where the smoke monster had been. “Why did he try to kill me?”

“Because I brought you both here,” Jacob replied. “I brought you both specifically. Kevin, too.”

“But Seth was different,” Ryan replied. “Seth was supposed to be here.”

Jacob nodded. “The day before Oceanic Flight 815 took off, I met Frank Lapidus in a bar. I bought him some drinks — enough to give him a hangover. That’s how I made sure Seth Norris was on the flight. He was one of my candidates.” He looked at Ryan. “My brother found out.”

“Is that why he tried to kill me?” Ryan asked. “Because you brought me here?”

“Yes,” Jacob answered. “Yes, I brought you here, too. I brought you here because he brought someone here. Someone else.”

“Olsen,” Ryan knew, without having to be told.

Jacob nodded. He looked up at the sky that could be seen through the trees, seemingly trying to think of how to say it. “You come from a different place,” he said, simply. “That doesn’t mean that you can’t be brought to the Island.”

“But the Man in Black hates people,” Ryan said.

Jacob grinned. “You call him the Man in Black?” he asked. “He’d probably prefer that to his real name. But no, my brother simply realizes that humans have tendencies to destroy. A tendency he chose to use when he brought Olsen to the Island.”

“He wanted Olsen to bring the DVDs to the survivors?”

“He gave them to him, pretending to be me in the same poor impersonation that you saw a minute ago. Olsen fell for it.” Jacob frowned. “My brother knew that the DVDs would break Jack, my best chance of a replacement. I was hoping that you could stop him. But beyond bringing you here, I didn’t interfere, and that was my mistake.”

“How do we fix it?” Ryan asked.

“I’ll need your help,” Jacob replied.

—-

When Ryan emerged from the jungle into the clearing with the question mark on the ground, Locke, Claire, and Joanna are sitting on the ground a few feet away from the trapdoor. The door was closed.

“Ryan!” Claire shouted when she saw him, and the other two turned to look. Locke stood up quickly, dusting off his hands. He looked grim.

“Jack shot Olsen,” he said quickly, walking toward him. “He’s dead.”

Ryan found his pace moving more and more quickly. “What about Kevin?”

“He’s fine,” Joanna said. “Jack’s questioning him, but we haven’t heard any gunshots. Well, any more gunshots.” She was pale and sweaty.

“Are you all alright?” he asked them, and everyone nodded. He looked at Claire. “You really saved my ass down there.”

She smiled. “I’m just your normal pregnant action hero,” she chuckled.

Ryan looked at Locke. “Jack needs to be stopped.”

“How do you propose we do that?” Locke asked. “Kill him? He’s the one with the gun.”

Ryan allowed a small smile. “I didn’t say that we were going to stop him.”

He turned to the jungle and gave a whistle. Several figures emerged from the foliage and into the clearing, walking toward them. There were three of them. Richard Alpert strode ahead at the front, while Mikhail Bakunin and Danny Pickett followed close behind.

Joanna got to her feet, leaving Claire stranded in a reclining position. “Who are they?” she asked Ryan in a hushed voice.

“The Others,” he replied.

Richard reached them first, while Mikhail and Danny moved to the trapdoor. Both had rifles in their hands.

Locke extended a hand to Richard. “John Locke,” he said.

“We’ve met,” Richard replied, shaking anyway. He nodded to Mikhail and Danny, who began silently lifting the door open.

“What’s going on?” Claire asked.

Richard looked at her with almost pity. “You’re pregnant,” he said softly.

“It’ll be fine,” Ryan assured him quickly. Richard looked at him strangely, then nodded. Mikhail and Danny quietly descended into the Pearl hatch.

“Are they going to kill Jack?” Locke whispered.

“No,” Richard and Ryan replied at the same time. Sounds of shouting came from below.

“We’re just going to take him with us,” Richard said slowly. “I’ve been informed that we need a spinal surgeon. We’ve also got a therapist who can help him through his…” He glanced at Ryan. “…issues.”

—-

After the three Others had left with the unconscious Jack in tow (sporting a nasty bruise on his head), Ryan climbed down the ladder and into the Pearl station. Kevin had limped his way into one of the console chairs, and grinned at Ryan when he walked in. “Patchy and Pickett rescued me!” he grinned. “Pickett was a lot nicer than I remember.”

“His wife’s not dead,” Ryan replied, glancing over to the far wall, where Olsen’s body was slumped over.

“What’s going to happen next?” Kevin asked suddenly. “For us?”

Ryan shrugged, turning away from Olsen’s corpse. “Locke, Claire, and Joanna have all agreed to back us up. Jack told us he was going back to the caves, and he never made it.” He paused. “We’ll have to be the leaders now.”

Kevin frowned. “It all seems a little backwards, doesn’t it? I mean, we don’t even know where this place is.”

“It’s here,” Ryan replied. “It’s here and it’s real. That’s all we have to know.”

—-

The video screen flashed from image to image. Roaring music played over the loudspeakers. The glass walls were soundproofed, and outside the two scientists could hear none of the chaos.

“How’s Olsen doing?” asked the shorter, bald one, pulling open a bag of chips with a pop. He adjusted his glasses. “Not too ill, I hope. I don’t want to get sued.”

The larger one scratched at his greying curly hair. “He signed the contract, Damon,” he replied in a deep voice, looking through the glass at the two figures strapped in chairs, blue LED glasses fixed to their faces. “He knew what he was doing.”

The shorter one noisily crunched on his chips, wiping his fingers on the front of his tan jumpsuit. “Hard to believe we’re down to our last two,” he said. “We started off with so many.”

The larger one chuckled. “All good things have to come to an end,” he said. “We’ll even have to take Page and Stafford out soon.” He shook the mouse on his computer, and it glowed to life, revealing two panels, each tracking one of the subjects’ brainwaves.

“We’ll leave them in for just a little bit longer,” Damon said, helping himself to another chip. “I’m not ready for this to end just quite yet.”