Author's Note: I was really annoyed at the finale's complete lack of resolution regarding Michael and Walt, and also didn't like the way the fates of Cindy, Emma, and Zach were left unresolved. This story is an attempt to rectify those omissions.

"Help."

The craziness of the past few days had interfered with the ghost of Michael's consciousness. The last thing he remembered was the mortar attack launched by Charles Widmore from Hydra Island to the main island. The attack was preposterous, as it could not have damaged the intended target, common known as the Man in Black, but could easily have killed the few innocent remaining survivors.

After a substantial amount of turbulence, the island appeared to have settled down. The transfer of power was complete. Yet something was wrong.

"Help."

Michael cleared his mind, and was able to trace the source of the plaintive cries. His spirit drifted quickly towards the ferry, located at the nearest point to Hydra Island. The sight broke his heart. A short distance inland, a woman and two children lay gravely wounded. The woman's leg was pinned under a thick tree trunk, the girl's leg was bent unnaturally, and the boy simply stared into space, suffering from a concussion and shock.

They're still alive! Michael recognized the woman as Cindy, the flight attendant who was one of the tail-end survivors. They had been together a few days before she mysteriously disappeared while they were trekking from the tail crash site southward to the fuselage crash site. The girl and boy were a sister and brother, about fourteen and twelve years old now, and he had learned their names were Emma and Zach. Michael had seen them briefly a few times while he was held captive in the Others' camp.

Michael made his presence known by whispering, causing the wind to suddenly pick up. While Cindy did not respond, Emma and Zach, the two who had made the weak cries for help, were able to see Michael's ghost.

Emma blinked. "Are you here to help us?"

Michael: "Yes, I'm going to get you help. There are people here who will help you."

Zach sensed something was strange, as if he could practically see through Michael's image. "You're not real, are you? You're one of those ghosts we see sometimes?"

"That's right."

Emma fought to make sense of the situation. "I remember you – you were the one who was tied to a post. That was like three years ago."

Three years? thought Michael. I must try to regain my sense of time.

Cindy became aware the children were talking to someone. "Who are you talking to?"

"It's a man who was in our village for a while a long time ago," replied Zach.

Cindy craned her neck, but no one was else was visible to her.

"There's no one there; you're imagining things." Poor kids have gone delirious.

"I see him too, but he's a ghost," Emma defended her little brother.

Michael tried to console the siblings. "It's all right, not everyone can see me. Children on this island are special and can see things that most adults can't. I have to go now to get help. But hang in there, will you?"

"We will," Emma and Zach said in unison, but without the strength of voice Michael had hoped for.

Michael disappeared from Emma and Zach's view, and shortly reappeared near the source, where Hurley, Ben, and Desmond were recovering from the day's ordeal. The trio heard unintelligible whispering, and weren't sure to what to make of it at first. Then Michael's ghost became visible to Hurley and Desmond.

Hurley spoke first. "Dude, what are you doing here? It's all okay now."

"It is not okay. There are still people on this island that need your help."

"But there's nobody left, except for Rose and Bernard, and they want to be left alone."

"Who are you talking to, Hugo?" queried Ben.

"It's Michael. You can't see him?"

"I wouldn't ask if I could."

"I see him," offered Desmond. "But … do you trust him?"

"I do now," replied Hurley. "He convinced me to blow up the dynamite so that we didn't destroy the Ajira plane and the best chance for some of our friends to get away from here and back to their real lives. This is the old Michael, who was a good person before …"

Hurley couldn't help but look at Ben, but Michael interrupted.

"This isn't the time for assigning blame. Cindy, Emma, and Zach need your help, and they need it quickly."

Desmond look puzzled. "I don't recognize those names. Do you, Hurley?"

"I sure never met them. Though they sound vaguely familiar from the flight manifest. Cindy … Emma … Zach …Ben, do you know …"

Ben blanched before Hurley could finish. Michael appreciated that now Ben was displaying a conscience.

Ben caught his breath. "Cindy Chandler was the flight attendant who survived from the tail section. We abducted her while her group was making their way to your camp. Emma and Zach were the two children who survived from that group. We kidnapped them a few days after the crash, but … what happened to them and where are they?"

While Ben couldn't see or hear Michael, Michael had no problem understanding Ben. "They're near the ferry where Walt and I left on the boat years ago. They were in Locke's group, or whatever that being was, when it was hit by the mortar attack launched by Charles Widmore. They were seriously wounded, and are still lying there, forgotten."

Hugo had to relay the message to Ben. "He says they're near the ferry where, you know, and were wounded in the mortar attack."

Ben winced. "That attack was three days ago. They survived … but to languish like that for so long unnoticed … horrible … gentlemen, we must get going. The ferry is a day and a half long hike from here. I know the shortest route, but I'm afraid I might slow you down. After that tree landed on my legs I won't be at top speed."

"They don't have a whole day!" blurted Michael. "I've seen enough death to know, they're severely dehydrated, and I doubt they could last the night."

"Michael says we don't have that much time," explained Hurley. "And I'm a bit winded myself. Desmond, how are you feeling?"

Desmond struggled to his feet, and waved his arms to keep his balance. "Not so good, brother. That experience drained my energy. I should be fine after a good night's rest, but … can you get a walking stick?"

"Sure." Hurley broke off a reasonably thick tree branch. "Will this do?"

Desmond took the branch. "Good enough. But we don't seem to have any supplies."

Ben: "There is enough fruit and water along the way to keep us going and to provide for the injured, if we get there in time. Hugo, do your new abilities allow you to get there faster?"

"I didn't suddenly get superpowers. I'm still human, and can't transport all over the place by imagining it. The only thing I can tell for sure is … that Michael is telling the truth."

Michael had hoped that Hurley would have new special abilities, but that may have been hoping for too much. The ghost walked alongside the trio of living beings, though he was agitated at their pace.

To keep his mind occupied, Hurley asked Michael several questions.

"How come Desmond and I can see you, but not Ben?"

"I don't understand how it all works, but Jacob made it so that you could see me. There is something special about Desmond, but Ben … just isn't special by these standards. That's why he could never see Jacob."

"So that's why Jack, and Kate, and Sawyer couldn't see you? Jacob chose me for some reason?"

"It's impossible to fully understand Jacob. All I can say is everything he did was because he thought it was in the best interest of the island, and protecting that source. I think he could have done things a lot differently, but what's done is done. I'm sure that you will do a terrific job, much better than he did."

"Thanks dude, but …" Hurley was panting. "I don't know that I'm going to help save Cindy and those kids. Isn't there something else you can do … what about Rose and Bernard?"

"Rose and Bernard are way at the north end of the island. They're closer to the ferry, but I don't think they're close enough, and I won't be able to speak to them. They're not special in the sense you and Desmond are."

"Given the circumstances, I think you'd better try."

"Of course. Good luck."

The ghost of Michael vanished, and soon reappeared near the Nadlers' home on the north end of the island. They were sitting on a log bench on their front porch. As Michael approached, the wind picked up, and the elderly couple heard whispers they couldn't understand.

Michael called out, "Rose, Bernard, we need your help."

But Rose and Bernard didn't hear. They huddled together, not a little bit frightened.

"Go away!" implored Rose. "We told you we want nothing to do with whatever you're doing. We leave you alone, so leave us alone."

"But the children need your help. Bernard, remember the brother and sister that survived the crash with you? And the flight attendant, they're alive, but need you."

Had Bernard understood, his response would have been different, but instead he echoed his wife. "You heard my wife, leave us in peace!"

The wind continued, and Rose and Bernard went inside and shut the door, in case it was a genuine windstorm.

Michael desperately wanted to leave some kind of message, even scratching words in the dirt, but he was not part of the corporeal world. He could not make any physical object move, and was limited to projecting thoughts and images to a very few special people among the living. He floated back to the wounded to try to raise their spirits.

"Hello, Emma, Zach? It's Michael. Help is coming, but you may have to hang on for another day. Can you do that?"

There was nothing but incoherent groaning from the children. They were fading fast, and Cindy didn't look any better. Michael tried again, but there was no further response. Alarmed, he wafted back to Hurley, Ben, and Desmond. By now Ben also had a walking stick, and was grimacing in pain with every step. Desmond was utterly winded and Hurley looked like he was about to suffer a heart attack.

Grateful for an excuse to stop, upon recognizing Michael Hurley asked, "How goes it?"

"Not good. I only scared Rose and Bernard, and they're too far away any way. Cindy and the kids need you. I checked in on them again and they're not responsive."

"I … don't think it's happening. There's only a couple hours of daylight left, and … we're not close, are we."

"I'd say twelve hours at this pace, but we'd be sure to slow down at night," commented Ben, understanding the conversation from what he could hear Hurley say. "We didn't have the time or materials to make torches."

"I'm afraid I can't keep this pace up much longer, either," lamented Desmond.

Michael took stock of the situation. There was no chance these three could get to the badly wounded three in time. If they tried, there could easily be three more deaths, deaths that didn't need to happen. Michael would not have been terribly broken up over Ben's demise, but Hurley and Desmond were good people who deserved to live and lead full, healthy lives. It was if Michael prepared a concession speech.

"It's not worth killing yourselves for nothing. Desmond, you have a wife and child in the real world who need you. Hurley, the island will need you in the future; you can't have a heart attack without a successor of your own, or this will all be in vain. This isn't your fault … get your rest and be the good people you are meant to be. Maybe there will be a miracle and they can make it another day."

Hurley didn't want to give up, but they weren't going to be of any use if they died before they got there. "We can go a little further …" but then Hurley became lightheaded, and crashed to the ground.

"Hugo!" exclaimed Ben, who tried to help but twisted his injured leg in the process, tripped, and fell into Desmond, sending them both to the jungle floor.

"Maybe we should rest a little and be at full strength later. It's probably the fastest way we can get there at this point." Desmond wasn't happy, but there was little choice. He shifted to move into a more comfortable position, but in doing so, his head began to spin, and in seconds he was out cold.

Michael left, unable to be near anyone. Moving to the middle of the jungle, he sat down against a tree and was alone with his thoughts. A failure in life, and a failure in death. Those poor three … two of them innocent children who have already gone through hell, and to die like that … I should have done something, should have realized something sooner …

Michael resigned himself to an eternity of a ghostly existence, part of a chorus of whisperers. It was what he deserved. In the best case he might be able alert Hurley or his successors of trouble sooner, but nothing would make up for this and his past failures. He found himself sobbing, not for himself but for the ones he couldn't save from a slow, cruel death. He let darkness cloud over his mind as he accepted defeat. The light in his consciousness faded to a pinpoint.

Then his eyes opened and his face took on a disconcerted look.

There still could be one last chance.