CHAPTER THREE
*Sorry it's taken me a little longer to get this chapter up. I've been struggling with how to adapt the concept of "grounders" into this universe, as well as wanting to start to deviate a bit from the original storyline and script. I'm still going to continue using a lot of dialogue directly from the show, but hopefully things will start to diverge from here. I've also changed Atom's name to Adam because I didn't think anyone in the late 19th century would have that name. No smut in this chapter, but don't worry, it's coming :P
As Clarke sprints through the trees, the image of Jasper's body floating face down in the water keeps coming back. What the hell happened? Who was that? Is he dead? Should she go back? Or is she being tracked right now? Is there someone following her in the forest, aiming an arrow at her back, waiting for the right moment? Her heart feels like it's going to burst out of her throat with each beat and her legs are cramping, but she's afraid to stop…afraid to give the attackers their chance.
A movement to her right makes Clarke dodge to her left just in time to avoid crashing into an out of breath Finn.
"Are they following?"
"I don't think so, but I can't be sure," Finn says as he bends over with his hands on his thighs, trying to catch his breath. "I haven't seen anything."
"And the others?"
"Who the hell was that, Clarke?"
"I don't…I don't know. There isn't supposed to be anybody out here. It's…it's a fucking no man's land, right? Why would they have sent us if they already knew people were surviving out here?"
"More importantly, why do they want to kill us?" Finn asks, bringing Clarke's thoughts back to Jasper. Poor Jasper.
"Finn, we've got to go back for him."
Finn raises his head and stares at Clarke with total disbelief. "Are you fucking nuts? No. No way. We have to find Octavia and Monty and get back to camp."
"We can't just leave him…"
"He's dead, Clarke."
"We don't know that! And if he is…he deserves a proper burial."
Just as Finn shakes his head, Jasper's scream pierces the forest. Clarke takes off in the direction she came from. Knowing he must be in pain…her instinct tells her he can be saved, but only if she gets there in time. Weaving between the trees, legs and lungs aching, Clarke stops abruptly at the tree line and scans the river for Jasper. But he's nowhere to be found.
As Finn drops into place next to her, he puts his hand on her shoulder. "We need back-up. We have to go back. Come on."
Clarke nods dully, realizing it's probably already too late.
On the walk back to the camp, they eventually meet-up with a terrified Octavia and Monty. Monty's look of anguish when he sees that Jasper isn't with them cuts Clarke to the bone. She let this happen. She should have been more cautious. She shouldn't have run away from him. Old, familiar feelings of guilt wash through her as she remembers all the lives she was never able to save. It hurts more than she can say to add Jasper to the list.
"I thought there wasn't anybody living out here," she says quietly. "I'm sorry."
Monty's eyes meet hers and he clenches his jaws. "I thought natives only lived in the east."
"And didn't they all die from the pox…over fifty years ago?" Octavia asks.
"It makes sense that if the…people…living out here were never in contact with anyone from the east, they never would have gotten the disease," Clarke tries to explain. "Their isolation kept them safe."
"So if they aren't pissed about us getting them sick why do they want us dead?" Octavia asks fiercely. "Not that I'm not used to people wanting me dead for no good reason…"
"We have to try to get him back," Monty says quietly.
Clarke slows down until she's even with him and reaches out to touch his arm gently. "I'll do everything I can to get him back. I promise."
"Promises from the privileged don't mean shit," Octavia spits out angrily, effectively shutting down any conversation for the rest of the hike back to the meadow and the derailed train.
Wells almost steps on two kids making out in the tall grass while making his way to the campfire. He shakes his head as he thinks about the fact that they're probably going to be covered in ticks. Idiots. The foraging didn't go as well as he had hoped, but he did manage to find a wild blueberry bush.
"Hey, thanks!" Murphy snarks as he reaches his hand out to snag the small pile of blueberries Wells has cupped in the hem of his shirt.
"These aren't for you. They're for the younger kids. Share based on need, just like back home," Wells says, although he thinks it should go without saying.
"You still don't get it, do you chancellor?" Bellamy smirks as he swaggers out of a makeshift tent, shirtless so that everyone can see the gun tucked into his waistband. Ass. Well's eyes widen we he sees a tall girl with long brown hair and tan limbs saunter out of the tent after him, adjusting her blouse. Bellamy pauses to accept an open-mouthed kiss from her before continuing. "This is home now. Your father's rules no longer apply." And with that, Bellamy snatches the blueberries out of Wells's hands. Anger blossoms in Wells chest. There are young kids out here who haven't eaten in god knows how long and this asshole, who's decided he has enough free time for a quick screw, hasn't done anything to help them. Wells moves forwards instinctively to try to take them back, but is blocked by one of Bellamy's minions.
When Bellamy notices Wells's movements, a flicker of amusement passes across his face. "No, no, Adam. Hold on." He moves forward to stand directly in front of Wells...leaning in towards his face. "You want it back? Take it."
Wells considers Bellamy's words. Can hear not only the threat, but the invitation. This is what he wants. He's waiting for a fight and another reason to prove he's in control.
"Is this what you want? Chaos?"
The corner of Bellamy's lips curl up. "What's wrong with a little chaos?"
A young girl comes running into the clearing, the hair from her bun falling down haphazardly and her lower lip bleeding. Her eyes are wild like a rabbit that's being chased by a fox.
Wells steps towards her immediately. "Are you alright? What's happened?" Concern etching his face.
"One of the…he…he attacked me…I didn't want…"
Wells face closes into a scowl. "Who?"
The girl steps behind Wells as Murphy comes walking up, his face dark, his eyes locked on the girl.
Wells eyes swing to meet Bellamy's, who is watching the proceedings with a blank face. "You can stop this!"
Bellamy's lips twitch up again and he cocks his head to the side, as if the idea amuses him. Patronizingly he says, "Stop this? I'm just getting started."
Out of nowhere, Wells's face is rocked to the side by a fist, causing him to falter slightly. He regains his footing just in time to dodge Murphy's next jab. With a swift uppercut to the gut, Wells sends him temporarily crumpling to the ground. Wiping the spit from his jaw, Wells says, "Don't you see you can't control this?!"
Behind Wells, Murphy curls forward until he's on one knee. Keeping his eyes on Wells's back, he slides his hand down his pant leg and quickly pulls a makeshift knife out of his boot. Bellamy sees this and steps forward.
"Hold on." Reaching down to his belt, Bellamy draws his own knife and holds it up. "Fair fight," he says simply, handing the knife to Wells.
Wells pauses a moment, calculating what his odds are of being able to get out of this fight, before he takes the knife. He is resolved. If this is what he has to do to survive, then he will fight to the death. The two boys circle around each other, one wary, the other exuding confidence in his desire to destroy. Murphy swipes the air in front of him experimentally, testing Wells's reaction time, until he feints, causing Wells to dodge directly into Murphy's blade. A hiss and an intake of breath are all he gets from Wells, as blood from the slice starts to drip down his arm. Confident Murphy's got him, he lunges at Wells, but this time Wells is prepared and quickly maneuvers him into a headlock, holding his knife against Murphy's bare throat.
"Wells! Let him go!" All heads turn to Clarke, who comes running through the tall grass towards them, followed by Finn, Octavia and Monty.
As Wells shoves Murphy out of his hold and away from him, Bellamy rushes towards Octavia, noticing the stricken look on her face. "Octavia! Are you alright?" Once he's scanned her with his eyes and sees no obvious damage he adds, "Where's the food?"
"We didn't make it far enough," Finn states, sitting down to catch his breath.
"Then what the hell happened out there?"
That's when Bellamy notices the look on the princess's face. Her face is strained, tense, and her eyes pierce him. "We were attacked."
Wells watches Clarke with concern. "Attacked? By what?"
Finn sighs. "Not what. Who. Turns out when they told us this is virgin soil, they didn't know jack."
Clarke's voice is tight and controlled. "It's true. Everything that we thought we knew is wrong. There are people here. The good news is that means people can survive out here. The climate won't kill us." A crowd of people have started to gather, drawn by the strength of Clarke's voice.
Finn cuts in, "Yeah, the bad news is whoever's out there will."
After a moment of silence, as Finn's statement seeps in, Wells looks at the returning group and notices something. "Where's the kid with the goggles?"
Clarke feels a moment of appreciation for Wells…he was always remembering others. She clears her throat. "Jasper was hit…They took him." Silence. "We need to contact home immediately."
Bellamy's eyebrows shoot up and he yells, "What?! No. They sent us out here to die!"
"They need to know that there are people out here! We need their help!" Clarke resists the urge to take a step back as Bellamy advances on her.
"They won't help! They'll chalk it up as a lost cause and forget about us." Bellamy notices the crowd watching their argument and he angles his body out to face them "We're stronger than you think. Don't listen to her. She's one of the privileged. We can take care of ourselves. They say they'll forgive our crimes. I say you're not criminals! We're fighters! Survivors! The natives should worry about us!"
With Bellamy's words, the crowd erupts into whoops and cheers. Clarke can see she's lost the battle and that arguing with Bellamy is going to be fruitless. If ever there was someone determined to keep his head stuck up his ass, it's him.
Monty quietly approaches her, worry written on his face. "What do we do now?"
Clarke takes a deep breath and looks back towards the trees. "Now we go after Jasper."
Clarke empties one of the sandbags from the train, repurposing the sack for the trek ahead. Running over logistics in her head, she doesn't hear Finn approach until he's standing just next to her.
"You ready," she asks. It's not even really a question. Standing up she swings her new rucksack over her shoulder.
"I'm not going anywhere. And neither should you." At the shocked look on Clarke's face, Finn continues, "Those arrows were shot with deadly accuracy!"
Clarke's eyebrows scrunch together in disbelief. "So we just let Jasper die?"
"He's probably already dead, Clarke. There are other people…living ones…to think about. You need to let it go."
"That's not going to happen." Clarke pulls away from his outstretched hand. "You think you're some carefree adventurer guy…living on the edge…always up for a good time…and you're really just a coward."
As Clarke pushes past him, Finn tries again. "It's not an adventure, Clarke. It's a suicide mission."
She doesn't even turn around. Wells stands up from where he was watching the conversation and makes to follow her. "Build a wall," he tells Finn. "Use fallen trees from the forest. I'll watch out for her."
Clarke approaches the Blake siblings, where Bellamy is tending to some lacerations on Octavia's leg. She must've fallen when they fled the river. It's an oddly intimate moment, Clarke realizes, to see happening between such hard people…their heads bent together, talking quietly. As she gets closer, she hears what they're saying.
"Jasper looked up to you," Octavia says quietly.
"You could've been killed," Bellamy states, but not as harshly as Clarke would expect. Octavia notices Clarke and Wells and quickly tries to stand up.
"You guys leaving? I'm coming too."
Bellamy's hands are her arms steady her and keep her from walking any further. "No way. Not again."
"He's right," Clarke agrees. "Your leg is just going to slow us down." She turns to Bellamy. "I'm here for you. I hear you have a gun." She waits as Bellamy pulls up the hem of his shirt, revealing the Colt single action army revolver tucked in his waistband. "Good," she continues. "Follow me."
Bellamy crosses his arms over his chest, attempting to draw Clarke's attention to his muscular biceps. "And why would I do that?"
She doesn't even spare them a glance as she steps towards him with a sweet expression on her face. "Because you want them to follow you…and right now, they're thinking that only one of us is scared."
Bellamy's look of amusement drops. Their gazes battle for what feels like forever to Clarke, but she stands her ground. Reluctantly, Bellamy orders Murphy to come with him and Adam to guard his sister. Clarke ignores Wells's look of disapproval.
"These guys are criminals," he says.
"I'm counting on it."
Once into the protected cover of the forest, Bellamy pulls his gun from his waist, spinning the chamber open and closed. "Hey, what's the rush? Goggles is probably dead by now…it's pretty hard to survive an arrow to the heart."
Clarke looks unimpressed. "If you're trying to intimidate me with that thing, you're going to have to try harder." Bellamy just grins. "Jasper screamed when they moved him. If an arrow had struck his heart, he'd have died instantly." When she notices he and Murphy have stopped walking she adds, "Doesn't mean we have time to waste."
"As soon as you give me the railroadafone, we can go." His smirk is starting to really grate on her nerves.
"Over my dead body," she growls. His eyes slowly move down from hers, scanning her lazily, improperly, lingering on the spot where a drop of sweat trickles between he breasts, taking note of her feminine figure, the attractive flush of exertion and temper that colors her chest and face.
"Brave princess," he says half admiringly, half mockingly. Clarke's caught off guard by the suddenly appreciative way his eyes move over her. No one has ever looked at her like that. No one on the plantation dared to…all the gentlemen who came to call on her had been just that…gentlemen. And she was so covered in grime from head to toe at the army camps and in prison that no one ever spared her a second glance. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she crosses her arms across her breasts, hoping Bellamy can't tell he's having any effect on her.
"Why don't you find your own nickname?" Finn's voice cuts through the silence and serves as a quick reminder to Clarke of what they're supposed to be doing. Finn must have noticed the way Bellamy was looking at her because he immediately suggests splitting up to cover more ground.
"Better late than never," Clarke whispers to him as they split off on their own, leaving Wells with Bellamy and Murphy. She doesn't take anytime to wonder whether the feeling blooming in her is relief or disappointment.