THE PLOT.
This was it. Rescue had come. The freighter hadn't brought the typical heroes, but it had brought hope to those survivors of Oceanic 815. It brought some sort of salvation to those whom desperately wanted to get back to their lives, and forget this god-awful island. Sure, there wasn't much trust, as it was made public that these people were not who they said they were, but there was something to believe in. The message brought by the lovable Charlie Pace was the final issue in the schism of the two groups. Those who had some hope in the people led by the now deceased Naomi and who wished for a normal life had gone with Jack, and those who wanted to live to see another day went with Locke.
The tension and terror of the situation only continued to grow.
The Others had long since abandoned their barracks, but knew that they had a new threat on their hands. Those people on the boat were the end, and with Ben still held captive by Locke's group, There wasn't much for them to do, but wait. The Chopper the freighter team came in on was badly damaged, and now the wait had begun.
It was all too strange. Warm, and awake. Their bodies no longer sustaining damage that had taken their lives, but left with mere scars of their deaths to think about. The island had let their lives go with the knowledge that their lives had been served out, that they had lived out to know their problems had all been solved, but something was wrong. All awaking in the jungle, scattered throughout the island, naked as the day they were born. There was something surely going on, and as each of the deceased took their first breath of their second life, they knew, yet, not all of the details were clear.
They had gotten the message: "You have more work to do."
But What exactly was their job?
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