Libby ran ahead of the others, her mind racing. Clarke would know how to extract the knife, but Libby could help her do it as safely as possible. She mentally ran through the medicines they had: antiseptics, antibiotics, immune boosters—

"Blood clotters," Libby said. "Stop the bleeding. Yarrow. Goldenrod. Yarrow we have." Libby remembered reading old survival books that suggested using moss or cobwebs to absorb blood. She couldn't think of a place where she'd seen cobwebs, but there was plenty of moss.

Libby got back to camp first, carrying a bundle of moss and yarrow.

"Get Clarke!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

Fox came running. "What happened?"

"Finn's been stabbed," Libby said. "I brought some supplies. Get the sickbed ready. Monty!" Libby jogged toward the dropship. "Monty, where are you?"

"Here!"

"I need some of your moonshine as a sterilizer!"

There was a commotion at the gate as the others came in. Octavia leaned heavily on Jasper, and Bellamy carried Finn.

In the dropship, Fox spread a clean cloth over the "sickbed" while Libby dug through her pharmacopeia for what she needed.

"Boil some water," Libby said, "and then go gather moss."

"Moss?"

"I think—think—that it'll help absorb the blood."

"How do you know all this?" Fox said admiringly as she hurried away.

"I read too much," Libby said to the empty dropship.

Bellamy came in and laid Finn on the sickbed. Clarke and Raven were with him. "Clarke, can you save him?" Raven said frantically.

"I need my mom!" Clarke said.

"But the radio—"

"Raven, fix it!"

Raven ran out, and Clarke turned to the bed.

"Libby?"

"I have antiseptics, antibiotics, and a coagulant," Libby said. "Fox is boiling water, and Monty's bringing alcohol for sterilization."

"Good," Clarke said.

"I'm going back out," said Bellamy.

"Fine," said Libby. "Send Octavia in. We should check her leg."

"I think a storm's coming," Bellamy said. "I'm going to tell everyone to come inside."

"Okay," Libby said shortly.

"I'll get out of your hair," Bellamy said wryly.

Monty and Fox brought moonshine and hot water. Libby made the yarrow into a warm paste and smeared it on the moss. She put a pile of St. John's wort within Clarke's reach, and soaked some of the echinacea in hot water. Libby and Clarke washed their hands with alcohol.

Clarke took some of the antiseptic (St. John's wort) and the coagulant (moss paste) and stopped the blood oozing from around the knife.

"It's a good thing you didn't remove the knife," Clarke said. "He would've bled out."

"That's what Bellamy said."

As they worked, the storm worsened. People crowded into the dropship. Raven came in, with a pile of radio equipment, and set up shop next to the sickbed. Rain rattled against the walls and roof.

Before long, Raven tried to transmit. She spoke loudly and clearly. "Calling Ark Station! This is Raven Reyes. Come in, Ark Station!"

People crowded behind Raven, listening anxiously. Libby slumped against the sickbed and put her head next to Finn's. She was so tired.

"Libby?" Clarke shook her. "Libby, are you awake?"

"More or less," said Libby without opening her eyes.

"Do you have any more painkillers?"

"Yeah." Libby sat up. "I stockpiled some opium." She rummaged in her bin of supplies and handed Clarke a small pipe stopped with clay on both ends. "It's in there."

"Calling Ark Station!" There was an edge of panic in Raven's voice.

The radio crackled. "Please identify yourself."

Libby scrambled to her feet. The people near Raven pressed in.

"This is Raven Reyes. I'm transmitting from the ground. The hundred are alive. Please, you need to get Dr. Abby Griffin. Now!"

"Hang on, Raven. We're trying to boost your signal."

There was only crackling for a few moments, then a woman's voice came through. "Raven? Can you hear me?"

Clarke went to stand by Raven. "Mom? It's me."

"Clarke? I thought you were dead," said Dr. Griffin.

"Well, I'm not," said Clarke tersely. "I need your help. One of our people was stabbed by a Grounder."

"A what?"

"We're not alone down here. Mom, he's dying. The knife's still in his chest."

"Dr. Griffin is on her way to medical," said the first voice. "Give her a few minutes."

"I need something to stitch the wound with," Clarke said. "A needle, or—"

"I'll make a needle," Raven said, and darted away.

Octavia came in, soaked to the skin. "The storm's getting pretty bad, Clarke."

"Monroe, close the door," Clarke ordered.

"But we still have people out there!"

"They'll find somewhere to ride it out," Clarke said.

Raven reappeared. "One suture needle." It looked homemade, but functional.

"I still need something to close the wound with," Clarke said.

"There's some loose wires upstairs," said Libby.

Clarke nodded. "That could work."

"Don't touch the blue wires in the ceiling," Raven said. "I rigged them to the solar cells on the roof. That means they're hot, you got that?"

"Yeah, I got that." Libby didn't appreciate being talked to like an idiot.

Libby climbed the ladder to the crowded second floor. She pushed her way to the wall and ripped out some red wires dangling there. Libby peeled the insulation off the wire and unwound a few of the metal strands. Each strand, she reasoned, would make a good suture.

As she turned back toward the hatch, Bellamy's dark head appeared at the top of the ladder. He was followed by Drew, Miller, and the Grounder who had stabbed Finn.

"What the hell?" Libby said. The Grounder's face was bloodier than she remembered. "Did I do that to him?"

"No," said Bellamy shortly.

"You're going to interrogate him?"

"We need to know what we're up against," Bellamy said.

Libby pursed her lips. "You're probably right. But why would he tell you anything?"

"I'll make him talk," Bellamy said grimly.

Libby went downstairs and pushed through the crowd. "Clarke, I've got wire. I'll sterilize it, and the needle. Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of," Clarke said.

Libby rinsed the "needle" and wire with Monty's moonshine and laid them next to the sickbed where Clarke could reach them easily.

"The knife is at a sharp upward angle," Clarke said to her mom, "between the sixth and seventh ribs."

"How deep?" Abby asked.

"I don't know."

"That's okay. Just don't remove it yet."

Raven was pacing by the sickbed.

"Sterilize your hands," Clarke said, handing Raven the moonshine.

Raven took a swig before dumping the alcohol on her hands.

"Clarke?" Abby's voice was fading in and out. "Is there any fluid?"

Two of the guys standing behind Clarke got into a scuffle. One of them shoved the other, who staggered and nearly knocked Libby over.

Libby lost her cool. Finn was dying, and these assholes were fighting. "Everybody upstairs, NOW!"

She expected pushback, but they lined up at the ladder.

"Thank you," said Clarke. "Mom, I don't see any fluid."

"That's good," said Abby. "The pleural membranes are intact. He got lucky."

"You hear that?" Raven bent over the unconscious Finn, smiling. "You're lucky."

Clarke felt Finn's face. "He feels a little warm."

"That's okay. Fever sometimes accompanies a trauma," Abby said.

"I have yarrow," said Libby. "That could bring his fever down."

"We'll worry about that later," Clarke said.

"Then I'll go upstairs, if you don't mind," Libby said. "Keep everybody calm. Raven can help you—right, Raven?"

"I got this," Raven said.

"We'll call you if we need anything," said Clarke.

When Libby got upstairs, Octavia was coming down from the third floor.

"You look mad," Libby said. "What's up?"

"They're going to torture him," Octavia said. "They've got him tied up."

"Well, it'd help if we knew how many Grounders there were."

"He saved my life."

Libby frowned. "What do you mean?"

Octavia explained: "I escaped, and I was running, but he caught me and pulled me behind a tree. A minute later, Roma came by, and a spear got her. That would've been me."

"Hm," Libby said. "Remember the horn Finn found on him?"

"Yeah."

"We were surrounded by Grounders, but a fog horn scared them away," Libby said. "I wonder if he blew it?"

"I bet he did!" Octavia said. "I asked him to save my brother!"

"So he sympathizes with us," Libby said. "He might talk."

Octavia looked uncertain.

"We need intel," Libby said. "Three people died today, and a fourth is dying downstairs. We were helpless to stop it. I don't want to be helpless anymore."

"Yeah, well, I feel helpless right now," Octavia said.

The dropship lurched violently. Libby and Octavia staggered, grabbing each other for support. People cried out.

Libby raised her voice. "Everyone stay calm. We're safe in here."

The hatch above them opened, and Drew came downstairs.

"What was that?" he asked. "Are we under attack?"

"I think maybe a tree fell," Libby said. "We're okay."

Libby sat against the wall and put her head on her knees. She was about to drift off when Drew shook her.

"Bellamy wants to see you," he said.

Libby followed him upstairs. Bellamy and Miller were crouched over a pile of the Grounder's things. The Grounder himself was tied up, one arm to each wall, forcing him to stand spread like a starfish.

"What's up?" Libby said.

"We found these in his pack." Miller showed Libby a small metal box, filled with neatly packaged leaves and vials.

"I thought maybe you could ID some of that stuff," Bellamy said. "If he has it, it must be useful. Medicinal or something."

Libby took the box and sat cross-legged on the floor. "Has he said anything?"

"No."

"Octavia said he doesn't know English," Miller said.

"If that's true, what can we possibly learn from him?" Libby said.

Bellamy didn't reply. He picked up a leather notebook. The Grounder stained against his bonds.

"I guess he doesn't want us to see this." Bellamy opened the book. It was full of charcoal drawings. "These aren't bad."

He stopped turning pages suddenly. Libby peered over his shoulder at a drawing of Octavia, done in loving detail.

Libby glanced at Bellamy's face. His expression was stony. He turned the page again.

"That's our camp," Libby said.

On the opposite page were neat rows of tallies.

"I'm guessing there's a hundred and two of those," Bellamy said. "Ten of them are crossed out. That's how many people we've lost." He glared at the Grounder. "They've been watching us since we got here."

"We would've done the same," Libby said reasonably.

Bellamy turned to another page depicting a sinister, shadowy figure. "What the hell is that?" He took the book to the Grounder and pointed emphatically at the picture. "Is this a friend of yours?"

The hatch opened, and Clarke came up.

Libby stood up. "How's Finn?"

"The knife's out, and he's alive," Clarke said. "What are you doing up here?"

Libby showed her. "Bellamy thought I'd know what they all are."

"You know all the other plants," Bellamy said defensively.

Clarke stood in front of the Grounder and stared at his bloody face. "Well, if he didn't hate us before, he does now."

"Who cares?" said Bellamy.

"His people will care!" Clarke said. "And what happens when they realize he's missing? They'll come looking for him."

"Nobody saw us take him," Bellamy said. He showed her the page in the notebook. "In case you missed it, his people are already killing us. How many more people need to die before you realize we're fighting a war?"

"We're not soldiers," Clarke said. "We can't win!"

"You're right, we can't," Bellamy said. "Not unless we fight."

Raven's voice came faintly from downstairs. "Clarke, he's seizing!"

"I'm on my way!" Clarke disappeared down the ladder.

Miller closed the hatch behind Clarke and put a box on top of it. "Nobody else will interrupt us."

"Interrupt what? We haven't done anything," Libby said. "Bellamy, if he doesn't speak English, what's the point?"

"What else can we do?"

"I don't know," Libby said. "We're at a huge disadvantage. We're strangers here. We don't know the land. We don't know how to survive. They could kill all of us whenever they wanted to. We saw that today."

"So what do you want me to do?" Bellamy was practically shouting. "I'm not going to let any more of our people die!"

"We can't go to war with them!" Libby shouted back. "Then all of us will die!"

Someone pounded on the hatch.

"Open up!" It was Clarke.

"Let her in, Miller," Bellamy said.

Miller opened the hatch for Clarke. Octavia came in right behind her.

Clarke marched up to the Grounder and showed him a knife. "What's on this?"

"What are you talking about?" Libby said.

"The blade's poisoned," Clarke said. "What is it? Is there an antidote?"

"Clarke, he doesn't understand you," said Octavia.

Libby held out the box. "It has to be in here. You can't carry a poison around without an antidote."

Clarke snatched the box and fumbled through it. "Which is it?"

The Grounder remained stoic.

"Answer the question!" said Bellamy.

"Show us, please," said Octavia.

Still, the Grounder said nothing. Clarke looked imploringly at Bellamy.

"I'll get him to talk," Bellamy said.

"Bellamy, no!" Octavia grabbed his arm, but Bellamy threw her aside.

"He wants Finn to die! Why can't you see that?" Bellamy looked to Clarke. "Do you want him to live or not?"

"Clarke," Octavia begged. "This is not who we are. He saved my life!"

"We're talking about Finn's life!" Bellamy said.

"Do it," said Clarke flatly.

Bellamy cut a piece of seatbelt, then ripped off the Grounder's shirt. The Grounder's torso was covered in black tattoos. Bellamy hit the Grounder with the buckle end of the seatbelt. The Grounder grunted.

Libby put her hand over her mouth.

Clarke showed the Grounder the medicines. "Which one?"

The Grounder said nothing.

Bellamy hit him another six times.

"I hate feeling helpless," Octavia said quietly to Libby.

"He could at least nod," said Libby.

"He didn't let me die." Octavia's voice was thoughtful.

Libby thought she knew what Octavia was thinking. "Do it."

Octavia snatched up the Grounder's knife, which Clarke had tossed on the floor.

"Enough!" Octavia yelled.

"He's letting Finn die!" Clarke said.

Octavia drew the knife across her upper arm, and a thin line of blood appeared. "He won't let me die."

"Octavia, what the hell?" Bellamy looked stricken.

Octavia pointed to the medicines one by one. Finally the Grounder nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"This one?" Octavia held up the tiny bottle, which was filled with a yellowish liquid.

The Grounder nodded.

Clarke grabbed the vial and disappeared down the hatch.

Libby knelt by Octavia. "Good job," she whispered.

"Octavia." Bellamy put his hand on her shoulder, but Octavia flung him off.

"Don't touch me," she said coldly.

"Go downstairs and get that taken care of," Libby said.

Bellamy knelt next to Libby. "I had to do it," he said, almost pleadingly.

"I know," Libby said. "We need to know what we're up against. And Finn would've died."

"Octavia saved him," Bellamy said. "What I did—it didn't work."

"What do you want me to say, Bellamy? That torture is okay? Because it's not. But you did what you thought you had to do, and you weren't entirely wrong."

"Do you really think we shouldn't go to war?"

"There's no way we could win."

"If we had real weapons—"

"But we don't."

Bellamy sighed and stood. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know." Libby stood up, and everything spun. She briefly saw the world through a long black tunnel.

Bellamy caught her as she fell and cradled her like a baby. "You okay?"

"'M fine," Libby murmured. "Haven't slept in a while."

"You can stay up here and rest." Bellamy carried Libby to a parachute hammock and gently laid her in it. "Miller and I will keep watch. Are you cold?"

But Libby was already asleep.