I had Clarke's segment of the last two chapters written for weeks now, but I added in Bellamy's and the rest to fill in the other side.


Chapter 11

After weeks of a cold icy winter, followed by escalating violence with the Grounders, and the illness they'd sent, the few weeks of relative peace and warmth that came after took on a surreal feeling. The snow was finally, mostly, gone, patches only remained in places where the sun didn't reach and they hadn't seen the Grounders since they set off Raven's bomb.

Life returned to what had become their normal- gathering water and food, standing defensively along the wall, fortifying their shelters, and honing their skills.

Clarke was out on what had become a nearly daily outing. Their food stores were low, so everyone was assigned to the food team, and did at least one hunting and gathering outing a day in addition to their other responsibilities. Bellamy had excluded Clarke from that of course, since her skills were better used in camp, but with so many of them in the forest, there was no safer time for her to gather more medicinal plants.

In addition, their territory marking had seemed to work with no encounters with Grounders in The 100's marked territory since winter had ended.

They'd learned, and had learned to make do with what was available. The books they'd found had helped, as had Monty's lessons, so more of them could spot edible and medicinal plants. Tree sap for small sutures and adhesive. Purple sumac as a calming sedative. Staghorn sumac is an antioxidant to aid healing when people had the flu. Sap from White Burch and Sugar Maple trees to supplement their calorie intake. Pine tar to adhere stone points to knife, spears and arrow shafts. Rope from Basswood tree fibers. A vitamin C rich tea from Pine needles to shore up immunity. Candles from Pine resin. Tannic acid extracted from boiling acorns which was good for use as an antibacterial.

As spring got more of a foothold more food would become available, but times were lean and meals were barely enough to survive on. But they'd all grown up with perpetual food shortages, and once they'd adjusted to sleeping longer and being up and active during only daylight hours during winter's short day cycle, (except the guards) they'd found an equilibrium.

They'd survived, forged a new society without assistance from the Ark. It had been months since their last communication from space, and they had been sporadic at best before that. Raven swore that the radio she'd built worked, and that the problem was on the other end. That terrified Clarke. Jaha wasn't one to delay his plans without good reason, so the lack of additional drop ships coming down to the surface meant that things had gone horribly wrong on the Ark. They had to assume that they were all dead or unable to use the drop ships and therefore would be dead sooner rather than later. She had to assume her mother was dead. They had to proceed as if no help was coming. As if they were the last of the human generations born in space.

Clarke tried to convince herself that they could make it. They had each other. Shelter. Food. Improving Earth skills. And they had seven months until winter came again. Unless they decided to move, travel south where the winters would be milder. And that seemed more and more likely, despite Bellamy's desire to stay in the camp they'd made. They knew the area they'd landed in, what had once been Virginia, one of the United States. They knew the terrain, the plants, the food and water sources, none of them were eager to start over somewhere new.

Their camp had become 'home' with the Ark becoming the place they'd come from. Their past. But if they could find a safe (safer) place to go, somewhere without Grounder's threatening their every move, someplace with abundant food, and no higher radiation levels than their current camp, the consensus was that they go. Raven and Monty were still working on getting the Geiger counters they'd found at Ft. Detrick to work.

Clarke was walking through an open field with several others, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face. The peaceful moment was interrupted by the ground seemingly beginning to vibrate. They all stopped, looking around warily. "What now?" Clarke asked in trepidation, knees bent, prepared to run or duck.

Suddenly hundreds of deer-like animals burst into the field, running straight for the teenagers. Light brown bodies with darker brown and white faces and thick, short horns, the animals made up a wall that would flatten the humans in their path.

"Run!" Clarke shouted and the teens didn't wait to be told twice, they took off in all directions running as fast as they could, trying to make it to the tree line where they might find some protection from the stampede.

Clarke ran along with the rest of them, dodging animals and darting towards a large tree stump that she hoped she could climb atop of. She didn't make it. One of the animals hit her, knocking her to the side where another bumped into her, spinning her off her feet. She tried to get up, but saw that she was in the thick of the herd now with no hope of getting out until they passed her by. Ducking down into a ball, she curled her arms over her head in an attempt to protect herself.

One after another of the animals hit her, legs and hoofs bruising her and keeping her down. When it finally ended, Clarke staggered to her feet to see that she was alone. She called out but heard no reply.

Stumbling in the direction she thought camp laid, she wandered into the forest, pressing a hand to her head where a large bump and a thick pour of blood let her know she hadn't been very successful in protecting her head after all.

-The 100—

More than an hour later the first of Clarke's group stumbled back into camp. Bellamy listened to their story with growing rage. "So you just ran and left our people behind?" Bellamy shouted.

"What did you want us to do?" one of the male delinquents who had problems controlling his temper asked belligerently.

"I would have wanted you to go back to look for other injured people. I would have wanted you to realize that we don't leave people behind."

"We were injured!" the boy argued.

Bellamy got in his face. "And who do you think gives a fuck? Nobody. The same nobody who will be treating your injuries because you left our only trained medic behind!" he raged.

"Just because you're fuc-"

Miller stepped forward and tossed an elbow in the boy's face in a quick almost casual move, sending him to the ground and shutting him up before Bellamy decided that beating him into unconsciousness would help resolve his feelings of rage, impotence, and fear. "We need to focus. Bellamy, you're taking out a search crew?"

Bellamy nodded, his eyes still burning with rage and fear. He turned away, shouting for Finn, Jones, Jasper, Monroe and a few others to get their guns and packs, while Miller got Raven and one of the younger girls who had been helping Clarke in med bay to triage the injured. "Monty is due back anytime now, and between the three of you, you need to deal with as many injuries as you can. Clarke is at least two hours out."

"What about Octavia?" one of the injured girls asked shakily, getting to her feet with the help of two others.

"Octavia is going to be out of camp too," Miller said, not offering any explanation.

-The 100-

Coming to a small ditch, Clarke looked around, turning in a circle to try to find a familiar landmark, but the forest spun around her. Her feet slipped as she stepped too far down the incline, the leaf litter making the ground slippery. She imagined pitching head over heels down to the bottom, but instead she slipped on her side, mud caking her pants and jacket.

At the bottom she took a few deep breaths and tried to assess her injuries. Her calf burned, but she was fairly certain it was just a really bad bruise. Her back and elbows ached as well. Her ribs were a bit more concerning, but since they just ached instead of sending shooting pains into her body, she assumed they were also just bruised and not broken. Her main concern was that she was dizzy and disoriented, and now she was also wet and muddy. Without any idea where she was, she knew she needed to find shelter, get warm, stay put until someone found her or her head stopped spinning.

Sitting up gingerly, she slowly got to her feet, both hands grabbing at her head as if it would help to steady her balance. Staggering down to the creek bed that ran along the bottom of the small riparian ravine she'd slid into Clarke moved slowly downstream, hoping that she'd find a patch of late afternoon sun, or a hollowed out tree where she could take cover.

-The 100-

Bellamy's search team arrived at the field where Clarke and the others had been caught in the stampede, but didn't find her. They'd come across two other injured and lost teens along the way, and sent them back with an armed guard.

Bellamy looked at the churned up dirt, imagining in his mind how many animals moving at speed would be required to tear up the grass like that, and what Clarke must have felt in the moment. "Finn," he barked. "Start tracking her."

"I'm trying," Finn replied tightly. "It's not that easy." He had to find where she exited the field as his starting point, but with twelve kids caught in the crush he had to figure out which way she had gone as opposed to the others.

"Good news is if we can track the animals, we can eat well for awhile," one of the team muttered softly, not wanting to draw Bellamy's anger.

They remained mostly silent as they followed one after another of the trails Finn found leading out of the field, disappointment and fear growing as the trails yielded no sign or sight of Clarke.

-The 100—

At Lincoln's cave, Octavia waited anxiously, pacing the surprisingly large space, popping out the hidden entrance every 15 minutes or so, craning her head to see if she could spot Lincoln in the distance. She knew he didn't always stay in the cave, that he had a home and family elsewhere, not that he'd ever told her where. Just that he had a brother and his mother was still alive. The way he'd said it made it clear that Grounders didn't live long lives. But then neither did the people on the Ark, so Octavia hadn't put much thought into it.

-The 100-

Clarke had been in the creek bed for maybe an hour when a wall of sound and movement came at her and Clarke darted to the side, only to see that this time the animals running past were wild turkeys. Gauging their speed she pulled out her knife and threw it, smiling incredulously as one of the flightless birds fell to the ground with a loud squawk.

Carrying the turkey by its neck, Clarke looked around, hoping for anything familiar. She'd hoped the creek would have led to a larger river she would recognize, but so far it hadn't. She didn't want to have to hole up in the forest overnight, but she knew it was fast becoming her only option. She had no idea how long she'd been walking, but the sun seemed lower in the sky. Too low. She was running out of time before nightfall and the temperature drop.

She thought she heard something behind her and transferring the turkey to her left hand she pulled out her knife with her right, turning quickly only to groan as her head ached from the sudden move. She looked for someone or something, but saw nothing. Nor did she hear anything. And she thought, forcing herself to consider the bright side, her head had stopped spinning and now only hurt like the worst hangover ever.

Turning back around, a wiry smile on her face, determined to at least continue in the straight line she'd committed to, she found a Grounder standing 20 feet from her. Clarke stared for only a second, long enough to recognize him as the grounder Octavia had befriended, Lincoln. She drew in a deep breath and turned to run, but another Grounder had dropped in behind her. She spun back around, fear clearly written on her face.

Lincoln approached and she backed away, towards the embankment that she had no hope of climbing. There was no escape.

As they closed in on her, Clarke assessed her chances. Two grounders, one of which was Lincoln. She wouldn't be able to kill them both, and she didn't particularly want to kill Lincoln, and if she killed his friend, he might kill her for the offense. Either way she ended up dead. Bellamy wouldn't agree, but sometimes not fighting was the best chance for survival.

Making herself as small as possible, she dropped to her haunches and hugged her knees, looking up at them with her wide, pale blue eyes. She didn't really have a desire to see how she was going to die, but neither would she look away, she just hoped it was quick. When the pain didn't come, she relaxed slightly looking up at Lincoln standing over her, noticing that the other grounder nowhere to be seen.

He stared at her steadily, and Clarke managed to drag up enough courage to meet his gaze. Every time she looked in his eyes she saw his pained but stoic expression as Bellamy tortured him. Tortured him with Clarke's approval. "Get up," he commanded in a rough voice. Clarke gaped at him. "Up. Now." When she failed to respond he reached for her but she cowered back. Lincoln stepped back, studying her carefully. "Octavia said you heal people. You're their healer."

Clarke regarded him warily, rising to her feet. "I do my best."

He seemed to consider her words. "You owe me, and I'm calling in the debt."

Clarke frowned, failing to avoid his hand that clamped down on her shoulder drawing her forward. He easily took the knife from her, studying it for a moment before slipping it into one of his pants pockets. "You're injured."

"I… I was run over. By a herd of…"

"Antelope."

"Antelope?" she questioned, not remembering any of the books they had read telling them that antelope occupied this part of the country.

He didn't bother to respond, just lead her out of the creek bed and into the forest again. She tried to stop to pick up her turkey, but he pulled her along. "Nice kill, you might survive yet."

They walked silently for some time, and Clarke had no better idea of where they were than she had before. "Where are you taking me? Is this the way to our camp?"

"You owe me," he repeated and she knew that she did. But that didn't mean she was keen to pay the debt on her own.

"They'll be looking for me," she said, trying to make him see that letting her go was his best option.

"You walked the wrong way," he said, pushing her blood matted hair off her forehead to reveal her head wound. "You crossed our boundary some time ago."

"We don't know where your boundaries are, if we did-," she started, but he pulled her forward, up a small rise, making her scramble to keep her feet under her. She never got the chance to finish her sentence. Before her was a hive of activity, hundreds, maybe a thousand people and what looked like tee-pees from the days when native people occupied the land to the west of them. There were also other buildings, made from tree branches, mud and rock, not too dissimilar from those they'd built. The town, because she didn't know what else to call it, was full of people, chickens, and other livestock.

-The 100-

As night was falling, Bellamy's group returned to camp, tired but carrying two antelope with them. Bellamy rushed ahead, hoping against hope that Clarke had managed to get herself back to camp safely. The serious expression on Miller's face put paid to that thought.

Bellamy quickly grabbed some rations and extra water, before putting on another layer of clothing before marching towards the fence again. He found Miller and Monroe waiting for him. "Get out of my way."

"We're not here to stop you," Miller said, his tone placating.

"We're coming with you," Raven declared, coming up behind Bellamy with her pack on her back, jacket zipped up against the chill and a scarf wrapped around her neck.

"You can't the camp needs you-" Bellamy said.

"The camp needs you and Clarke, so let's get her back. Now are we going or are we going to stand around and braid each other's hair?" Raven sassed, pushing past him.

"What she said," Monroe said quietly, falling in step behind Raven.

"Jones and Finn are in charge while we're gone," Miller said, easing Bellamy's concerns. "And guard duty is covered."

Bellamy nodded, then swept out the gate. Miller followed him, glad that he was so distracted by Clarke's disappearance that he hadn't asked where Octavia was.

-The 100-


It's always exciting to post chapters that have been written and waiting for weeks while the rest of the story takes shape.

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