My grandparents needed someone to take their car down south for them for the winter, so another family member and I volunteered. She drove most of the day yesterday, which meant I got to write! And voila, a longer chapter than usual!
An internal groan almost forced itself out. They had been riding for hours. She'd lost track of how many quite awhile ago. Longing to get there warred with the overwhelming wish that they never would, that they could just travel on forever and that the world wasn't about to end. She hadn't felt this alone since she'd been locked in the Skybox.
"You aren't alone, Clarke."
What did I tell you about reading my mind? Maybe alone wouldn't be so bad.
"How far, Roan?"
He almost seemed surprised to hear her speak. They'd been riding in silence forever, so he probably was. There wasn't much left to say.
"Four hours, if everything goes well."
As if anything ever went well.
"We should get there just before dark."
We? No. He couldn't get that close without risking permanent damage. Plus, he wouldn't make it back to the bunker in time. She would have to send him back soon. But not yet. He could come with her, just a little farther.
The silence started up again. It was a beautiful day. How could it be this nice out when everything was about to be destroyed? The sun warmed her face, the breeze just perfect through her hair. Things she had longed for an eternity ago on the Ark. How was she not a hundred years old? After Lexa, Mount Weather, Finn, she felt even older than that.
A bird tweeted somewhere in the trees to her left. That was nice to hear. There hadn't been many birds around lately. In fact, none. They had moved on, trying to find food after the insects had died in droves from the rising radiation levels.
Another bird, this one on her right. That was strange. She looked over at Roan. He'd gone all tense. Oh crap. Those weren't really birds.
"Get ready to take off on my signal," Roan said. Other than the tension in his shoulders, he wasn't giving away that he was on to whoever was in the trees at all. Clarke told her muscles to relax, trying to imitate his forced casualness.
Without giving them a chance to make a break for it, an arrow flew from the trees on the right, striking Roan in the side and knocking him to the ground. His horse pulled away, crashing into the nearby shrubbery.
He roared in pain and jumped to his feet, pulling his sword. "Go, Clarke! Get out of here!"
"Go Clarke, we have to leave him!"
The twang of another arrow leaving a bow nearly made her panic. Her horse reared and squealed, snorting. Somehow she managed to keep her seat, reining the mare in. The mare danced around, upset by the confusion and smell of blood. Roan's blood. Her gaze went to Roan as soon as she knew she wasn't about to join him on the ground, terrified of what she would find.
He was gone, already in the trees.
Crashing in the undergrowth sent her horse into another round of frantically trying to get away. This time she was prepared and forced the mare to circle, keeping her from taking off.
"Roan!" No answer. Her heart raced, pulse pounding in her ears. How could she leave him? How could she not? She would be risking everyone she left back at Polis if she wasn't able to get to the reactor before it blew.
"Clarke, get down!" ALIE shouted in her head.
She dropped down against the horse's neck just before an arrow whistled past.
No matter what she couldn't sit here in the open. She loosened the reins and her mare tore off down the trail, ramming Clarke's leg into a tree in the process. She grabbed the saddle to right herself and lost the reins.
Unwilling to be left behind, Roan's stallion screamed from behind them, and then thundered past, not burdened down by a rider.
She couldn't do this. Couldn't leave him behind injured, without even a horse to get him back to Polis. There was no way he could make it back before the wave hit, if he could make it back at all. Because he was alive to make it back. He was Roan, he had to be.
She leaned over the mare's neck, hair whipping in the wind and stinging across her face. She groped for the reins, which thankfully hadn't fallen over the mare's head to the ground.
The reins were slick in her sweaty hands, but she gripped them tighter and yanked. The mare slid to a stop, rump almost to the ground, tossing her head in protest at the harsh pull on her bit.
Clarke hit the ground. Some distant part of her mind marveled that it had taken this long.
Her hand was still wrapped around the reins. She gripped them tighter. She wasn't going to lose this horse too. The mare did a little half rear and then settled. She had to be exhausted. The poor thing was heaving in deep breaths, sweat dripping from her neck and shoulders.
A nearby tree worked as a hitching post. Clarke quickly tied the reins around a low hanging limb, knotting and re-knotting the reins. She quickly checked the saddle bags for weapons. There, a pistol. Someone was looking after their Heda.
Pain shot through the leg that had made contact with the tree as she ran as fast as it would allow her back down the trail.
"Clarke! You can't risk your life for him, what are you doing? Everyone is counting on us!"
Shut up. I know you're incapable of feeling things for individuals, but I'm not. Feel what I feel or get out of my head until I ask for you.
When she deemed herself close enough that she might be heard, she slowed, taking deep breaths through her nose to try to help with the nausea the pain in her leg was causing.
"Someone is coming up the trail."
Thank you. See, useful but not annoying. She ducked behind a tree. A second later a man jogged by. Her heart dropped. Not Roan.
"He will find the horse, Clarke. That is most likely what they were after in the first place."
ALIE was right but she couldn't just shoot the guy. His friends might still be alive and hear.
In her moment of indecision someone grabbed her from behind, clamping a hand over her mouth. She struggled, breaking free and whirling around, gun raised.
It was Roan, blood splattered everywhere, one hand in the air, the other carefully keeping his dripping sword pointed at the ground.
"I got the rest. Where are the horses?"
She jumped forward and hugged him, making him grunt in pain. "Sorry! Mine is tied up to a tree farther along the trail. I don't know where yours is."
"We need to stop him."
In other words, she needed to stop him. Roan should not be running around with that arrow wound. She needed to look at it, but first things first. She took off back toward the horses.
When she came around the corner the grounder was trying to get close enough to untie her horse. The mare was having none of that, baring her teeth and wheeling to kick at the stranger.
"Hey!" Clarke yelled, holding up the gun. "Get away from my horse!" She had no problem shooting the guy after the cowardly ambush he had put her and Roan through, but she didn't want to miss and shoot the horse. She hadn't used a gun much and ammunition was too precious to practice.
The man stepped back, hands in the air. He had an extra finger and his wrist was at an odd angle. An Exile. Hopefully not related to Emori, by blood or by clan, or whatever the Exiles called their groups. It wouldn't change what she had to do, but she didn't need the guilt of anyone else's family on her hands.
"Farther. Move away from my horse," Clarke forced out from between gritted teeth. This man had no idea what he had almost caused, the amount of people he had almost killed.
He eyed her gun, then his eyes flitted over to her horse again.
"No." She barely had the word out before he darted behind the mare, not giving her time to get a shot off.
A sharp whistle split the air from behind her. Roan?
There was a second of silence before the thundering of hooves coming up the trail floated in their direction.
The Exile had frozen on the other side of the mare, fumbling with the last knot. He went back to frantically picking at it, trying to free the mare.
Roan's stallion burst into sight. He flung his head and took a wild look around, then lunged at the Exile, clamping onto his arm with his teeth and rearing, lifting the man into the air before dropping him to the ground.
The man shrieked and tried to scramble backward, setting the mare off crashing against the tree she was tied to. There was no getting away from the stallion.
Snorting, the stallion reared and came down straight on the grounder. He went up again, and the man went silent. Blood splattered against his chest as he pounded what was left of the man into the ground. Eventually he moved away, flinging his head and snorting, blood soaked front hooves pawing the ground.
Roan moved around Clarke and spoke to his horse. Who knew the man could sound so gentle.
Clarke let herself lean back against a tree, doing her best to not just crumple to the ground. She didn't care that the Exile was dead, but now that this was over she was glad she hadn't had to kill him.
"I knew horses were dangerous," she called over to Roan, who was stroking his horse's face. "I just thought it was because people could fall off."
He chuckled. "Only when they are taught to be. Roach is my war horse. We've been through a lot together."
"Well remind me not to make him mad," Clarke muttered.
Roan grinned, then grimaced when his horse nudged him in the chest.
"Oh, you were hurt!" In all the excitement she'd forgotten. She hobbled toward him, her stomach rolling at the memory of the arrow thudding into this chest.
The stallion rubbed his head on Roan's chest again, knocking him to the ground.
"Roan!" Clarke rushed over and dropped beside him, searching for his wound.
"Stop. I'm fine." He shoved her hands away.
"You are obviously not fine. You have an arrow shaft sticking out of your body!"
"Not anymore."
"What?" She jerked his shirt up to check where she'd seen him get hit. Sure enough, while she had been tearing off on the mare, the arrow had been shoved through and all that was left was a ragged hole. "Did you do this?"
Roan went all tight lipped.
"You did, didn't you." Clarke's hands went to her hips. "You can't just do that! What if you made it worse?"
"This isn't my first arrow wound, Clarke." Roan raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, well…" she didn't really have anything to say to that. "I still need to look at it. We need to get it cleaned up, bandaged, make sure there aren't any splinters or anything like that."
"It can wait. We need to go. We are losing time."
"He is correct, Clarke. We must push on. Even if you stop briefly, you take the chance of being too late to vent the reactor. He will die either way at that point."
Shut up. I told you I'd ask for you opinion if I wanted it.
Roan shuffled to his feet and gave a short, high whistle, totally different than the one he'd used earlier. His stallion moved forward and dropped to his knees, allowing Roan to roll onto his back.
Wish my horse did that. Clarke moved over to her mare and undid the last knot, the only thing that had kept the grounder from taking off with her. Getting into the saddle was quite a feat with her bum leg. She should look it over too, but if they weren't stopping for an arrow through Roan they certainly weren't going to stop because she bumped her leg.
Roan was slumping slightly in his saddle. If his normal posture hadn't been so rigid, she might have thought it was normal for him, but it most definitely wasn't. He was in a lot of pain. As if this trip wasn't difficult enough already.
"You need to head back," Clarke said.
Roan rolled his eyes and clicked to his horse, who started along the trail at a gentle walk.
"Seriously Roan, please. You need to go back."
He ignored her and kept on.
Obviously the man could not be reasoned with. She was going to have to come up with her own way to force him to go back. A pang hit her. And then she was on her own.
P.S. Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! Every one of them is greatly appreciated :)