When he first entered room four, a sudden moment of concern crossed Mr. Z’s mind. He thought no one was there! Until he glanced back to the left side of the door. Sitting with her face towards the wall, like some troubled child told to go and sit in the corner, was a cute, young woman dressed in shaggy clothing. Her blonde hair sloppily pinned up! She was holding her head down and singing. Z recognized the song.
“Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket,” she softly sang, “save it for a rainy day.”
“Good morning,” Z greeted.
“Good morning!” she cheerfully replied, as she slowly glanced up.
Z noticed how blue her eyes were. He felt that when she looked at you, it was as if she were looking into your soul! He thought that ironic because the woman’s own eyes appeared soulless!
Z glanced at her file.
“And you must be Claire Littleton!” he said.
“I am!” Claire answered, once again cheerfully.
“Ms. Littleton,” Z began, “I’m here to ask you some questions.”
“Okay!” Clare replied, as she turned her chair around to face Mr. Z.
“I need for you,” Z began, “to tell me where you have been and what you have done since boarding Oceanic Flight 815, those many months ago in Australia, up to you landing here tonight on Ajira flight 316.”
Claire smiled a smile that was so cold, Z swore he could feel the temperature in the room drop a few degrees!
“I don’t know if I should tell you anything!” Claire replied in a sing-song voice.
“Why is that, Claire?” Z patiently asked.
“You might be with them!” she replied.
“Who’s them?” Z asked.
Claire’s eyes grew wide, “them. The Others!”
“And who are these Others?” Z asked.
“They hide and throw stones!” Claire answered.
Z nodded, “Well, I assure you I won’t hide from you and throw any stones.”
Claire grinned child-like, “Well, that’s good to know! Very good to know!”
“Tell me more about these Others you speak of, Claire,” Z inquired.
“My father told me I was to always hide from them,” Claire answered.
“Your father?” Z was puzzled.
“He was with my friend in a cabin,” Claire replied.
“A cabin?” Z smiled, “tell me more about your father, your friend, and this cabin.”
“Oh, I didn’t really know my father,” Claire answered, “and I had just met my friend in the jungle, when I was wandering around the island, and as for the cabin, well, it needed new drapes!”
“Did you experience anything else while you were on that island?” Z asked.
“Boone died. Shannon died. Sun died. Jin died. Sayid died. Locke died. Jack died….. so many died….. and Charlie….he died too!” Claire began to tear up. “Charlie was my favorite,” she softly said.
“Claire?” Z asked, “in your conversations with your “father” and your “friend” did they ever mention the location of the island you were on?”
Claire gazed into the air, as if she were trying to think very hard.
“Now that you mention it,” Claire replied, “they didn’t, but I think it was because they realized I knew all along where we were!”
“And where were you?” Z asked.
“We were in hell,” Claire replied giggling, “you want to know where I was all that time? I was in hell!”
Z nodded, closed the file, and headed toward the door.
“I’ll get back to you after awhile, Ms. Littleton,” Z said, “in the mean time is there anything else I can get you to make you more comfortable?”
Claire nodded, “If you could find me a doll that I could sing to, I would greatly appreciate it!”
Z nodded, “I’ll see what I can do!” He then exited the room.
“How’d it go?” Smaller asked.
Z frowned, “I want you to arrange a transfer for Ms. Littleton, ASAP! Put her in quarantine! And let me know as soon as her blood tests come back!”
“Think we have an infected one?!” Smaller asked.
Z didn’t answer. He immediately picked up the next file. It was labeled: MILES STRAUME.
Next: Chap. Eight “The Miles Straume Interrogation”