Lost: Transmission Granted
by littlewiccan
Some of the text from this chapter was also taken from the orgainl trnscript. Mostly b/c I can't speak French and I don't know anything about trancievers. Sorry this will be the last time I do this.
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Locke is seen sitting on the beach with a backgammon game board set in front of him.

“What is it, like checkers?” Walt asked, walking towards him and sitting down.

“Not really, it's a better game than checkers. You play checkers with your Pop?”

“No, I live with my mom in Australia.”

“You've got no accent.”

“Yeah, I know. We move a lot. She got sick. She died a couple of weeks ago.”

“You're having a bad month.”

“I guess.”

“Backgammon's the oldest game in the world. Archeologists found sets when they excavated the ancient ruins of Mesopotamia. 5,000 years old. That's older than Jesus Christ. Two players. Two sides. One is light, one is dark. Feel like playing a game.”

Walt nods.

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Cameron sat in the dark, cold, dank recesses of the cave he had found. He had been one of the passengers on the plane but he wasn’t like them at all. He was a vampire. He was about 5’6’’ with shaggy black hair parted in the middle and he was very thin. He had been badly burned when plane crash but he had managed to find cover and extinguish the fire on his body before he became dust.

His skin was black and peeling from the burns. It hurt for him to move, to even smile. He had recovered a little but not much. It would take him time to heal. He had killed that pilot, drank from him to get some strength and then turned him so he wouldn’t be alone but that stupid girl, the slayer had killed him thrown him into the sunlight, where he turned into dust. She had killed one of his children and he wanted revenge. Cameron sat in the dark, cold, dank recesses of the cave waiting for dark, waiting for the time when he could hunt and gather his strength.

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Sawyer, Sayid, Buffy, Shannon, Charlie, and Boone all made there way through the jungle. By now they were a good way up the mountain but still not far enough.

“Check the transceiver,” Sawyer commanded Sayid.

“No, we’re not far up enough.”

“Just check the damn thing will you.”

“No!”

After walking a little father and about a minute later, “Will you check it now?” Sawyer asked.

“No!” Sayid and Buffy yelled in unison.

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After hiking for about another hour Sayid gets out the transceiver.

“Oh, now's a good time to check the radio,” Sawyer said, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“We're up higher,” Sayid replied.

“Thank you, captain obvious,” Sawyer replied.

“Shut up,” Buffy said.

“Oh, be quite Barbie,” Sawyer yelled.

“What’s your problem?” Boone said but before Sawyer could reply he was interrupted.

“Hey, we've got a bar. Mayday, mayday,” Sayid said. The sound of feedback can be heard coming from the radio.

“What’s that?” Charlie asked.

“Feedback,” Sayid replied.

“Feedback from what? What would do that?” Boone asked.

“I don't know,” he replied.

“I'll tell you what would do that. This guy not fixing the radio. This thing doesn't even work,” Sawyer sneered, indicating the transceiver.

“No, no. It's not broken. We can't transmit because something else is already transmitting,” Sayid said.

“Transmitting from where?” Buffy asked.

“Somewhere close. The signal's strong,” Sayid said.

“Somewhere close, you mean on the island, that's great,” Charlie said, a smile on his face at the thought of being rescued.

“Can we listen to it?” Buffy asked.

“Let me get the frequency first, hold on,” Sayid said as he began to tinker with the radio.

“There's no transmission,” Sawyer said, “That things broken and you know it. We’ve been sabotaged.”

“Hey, Mr. Negativity, not helping,” Buffy said.

“Who would be transmitting from the island?” Boone asked.

“The rescue party, it has to be,” Charlie said as they begin to listen to the transmission. It’s French, “It's French, the French are coming. I've never been so happy to hear the French.”

“Does anyone speak French?” Sayid asked the group.

“I took French but I have no clue what she’s saying. All I know how to say is can I go to the bathroom,” Buffy said.

“Shannon speaks French,” Boone said.

“No, I don't,” Shannon said.

“What the hell are you talking about? You spent a year in Paris,” he told her.

“Drinking, not studying,” she clarified.

“Iteration 7294531,” the transceiver said.

“Okay, what's that?” Charlie asked.

“Oh, no, no, no, no,” Sayid yelled at the radio.

“No, no, no, What?” Buffy yelled back at him.

“The batteries are dying,” he replied.

“How much time do we have?” Buffy asked.

“Not much.”

“I've heard you speak French listen to this. Listen to it,” Boone said, putting the transceiver near Shannon’s ear.

“I can't.”

“You speak French or not, because that would be nice,” Sawyer said.

“Iteration 17,” the transceiver said.

“C'mon,” they urge Shannon.

We can hear some of the transmission. ³Il est dore.²

“It's repeating,” Shannon managed to say.

“She's right,” Sayid said in realization.

“What?” Boone asked, confused.

“It's a loop. Iteration, it's repeating the same message. The counter, the next number will end 533,” Sayid remarked.

“Iteration: 17294533,” the transceiver said.

“Does anyone know what the hell he's talking about?” Sawyer yelled.

“It's a running count of the number of times the message has repeated. It's roughly 30 seconds long so, how long….” Sayid said.

“Don't forget to carry the 1, chief,” Sawyer joked.

“She's saying: she's saying: please help me, please come get me,” Shannon said, unsure.

“Or, she's not. You don't even speak French,” Sawyer through back at her.

“Let her listen,” Charlie said.

Shannon begins to listen intently, “I'm alone now, on the island alone. Please someone come. The others, they're, they're dead. It killed them. It killed them all.”

“That was good,” Boone said, patting her on the shoulder.

“16 years,” Sayid said.

“What?” Buffy said.

“16 years and 5 months, that's the count.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sawyer said.

“The iterations. It's a distress call, a plea for help, a mayday. If the count is right it's been playing over and over for 16 years.”

“Someone else was stranded here?” Boone asked.

“Maybe they came for them?” Shannon reasoned.

“If someone came why is it still playing?” Sawyer said.

“Guys, where the bloody hell are we?” Charlie asked.

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Review please.

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