Lost - Every Man For... -

Elias reached the summit by dusk on the fifth day, expecting to see a horizon clear enough to signal a passing ship. Instead, he saw the other side of the island.

The beach there was littered with the same black sand, but it was crowded. Dozens of men—hundreds, maybe—were sitting in the surf, staring at the sea. They were translucent, grey as the fog, their eyes hollow pits of regret. Lost - Every Man for...

"Every man for himself," he wheezed, the mantra acting as a rhythmic pulse to keep his legs moving toward the treeline. Elias reached the summit by dusk on the

Elias clawed his way onto the black sand, his fingers dragging through silt that felt like crushed bone. Behind him, the screams were being swallowed by the surf. He didn't look back. He knew the captain was pinned under the rigging, and he knew the boy, Leo, couldn't swim. But Elias had the only watertight tin of matches and a dry bag of hardtack. Dozens of men—hundreds, maybe—were sitting in the surf,