A man screams loudly, stumbling out of a house completely engulfed in flames. His feet drag frantically over the dead and barely alive people burning on the ground, bright, hot flames dancing around their bodies mercilessly. One of the mans arms hangs limply by his side, blood slathered broken bones bursting from his tattered clothes as his other arm desperately swipes at the fire licking at his crippled body. The mans once pale skin is blackened with ash and soot, scorched and covered in painful looking bloody, blistering welts from the intense heat around them.
Wide hazel eyes jump from his screaming form to the others screaming around him as her slow and detached steps sluggishly pull her closer to the chaos. Myles wanders around the fiery wreckage alone and in a daze, taking in the absolute devastation of Mount Weathers missile attack. People run around aimlessly, some bolting for the fire cloaked trees in an attempt to abandon the blazing remains of Tondc, while others despairingly try to help others. Handmade structures covered in the bright orange haze start to collapse, falling noisily to the ground as fire crackles loudly and people shriek all around the red haired teen.
Everything sounds and feels muffled to Myles, as if she's under water. She barely feels the mighty heat of the fiery village, too consumed with the image of the innocent people burning mere feet from her. Large chunks of ash falls on everything, the flecks burning as bright and hot as the flames they escaped from. Small holes bore into Myles' clothes from the hot ash, stinging her face, neck and hands when they touch her skin.
Turning her head blankly to look at a woman being dragged into the tree line, Myles' footsteps falter and begin to walk slowly in her direction. The woman's skin is covered in melted boils, and the man trying helplessly to drag her away from the flames has a young child wailing in his arms. Fast movement flickers in the corner of hazel eyes, and the redhead turns her head dizzily to look at it.
A white horse barrels towards her, it's mane and tail ablaze with bright orange flames. Large bleeding grazes litter the scorched animals body, and it screeches and neighs loudly as it tramples over the hot dirt in a feeble attempt to rid itself of the fire sticking to its hair. Myles can't help watching the animal go, but her horrified eyes are quickly drawn from its rapidly retreating figure.
The horse almost knocks over a woman in a light blue coat when it flees down the path, leaving the distraught lady stumbling. Tan skin is blackened by ash, completely disguising her features, but her wide and terrorised eyes snap over the devastation. Her brown eyes land on Myles and the woman opens her mouth shakily in a silent plea for help, but it's not until the woman trips over her unsteady feet and steps closer to her that the redhead sees that her left forearm is missing. A severed and charred forearm with a light blue sleeve still covering the wrist is clutched tightly in her right hand.
She stumbles for a few seconds, and Myles' feet head to her subconsciously, her hazel gaze glued to her frightened and traumatised eyes. Her dizzy stumbling comes to a sudden end when the woman trips and falls to the dirt, the severed hand still held tightly in her grip. Fear pricks at Myles' heart when the woman doesn't move an inch once she's hit the ground and the red haired teens steps hasten slightly as her ears ring. Something else mingles with the muffled screams floating through the air, but Myles doesn't stop her boots from clumsily shuffling across the dirt until hands grab at her and twist her around.
Clarke stands in front of her, the blondes hands holding her shoulders and shaking her to get her attention. Her blue eyes are wide and glistening with tears, the reality of the decision they've made not lost on either of them. Clarke's mouth is moving, but hazel eyes switch over to the commander standing silently over her shoulder, her wide brown eyes staring at the redhead in mild concern.
"Aggie," Clarke pleads, her voice thick with emotion as it echoes through Myles' dazed mind. "Look at me."
"I could've warned them," the red haired teen mutters, her eyebrows pulling together in despair.
"We need to go," the blonde tells her shakily, her hands tugging urgently at the cloth sitting on Myles' shoulders, pulling it up to cover her head again.
"I could have saved them," Myles continues quietly, feeling tears bubble up in her hazel eyes while she tries to stumble back and away from Clarke's hands.
"If they see us," Lexa urges strongly, her face void of the heavy emotion clouding over the two Arkers. "They'll strike again."
"Where's Kane?" Clarke asks in a weak voice, her hands not letting the distraught redhead step away.
"Helping," Myles whispers, tearing her hazel eyes away from her two friends to look over the destruction. Her feet try to step away from Clarke's hands again, "I should – I should be helping survivors, too."
"Myles," the commanders hard voice rumbles out authoritatively, stepping closer to the redhead to help hold her still. Devastated hazel lock on the young woman's stern brown eyes, "victory stands on the back of sacrifice. You know that."
"I need to help them," the red haired teen whimpers out weakly, her eyes begging Lexa to understand. "I need to. It's my job."
"…you do your job," Raven demands, her tone bitter and her eyes hard as she stands in front of the red haired teen in Engineering.
"What is my job?" Myles grits out, her tone weaker than the brunettes.
"You save everyone!" Raven shouts back at her, throwing one of her arms up.
"That's what she did on the Ark, and down here," Clarke explains softly when the commander furrows her eyebrows in confusion, shaking her head slightly at the redhead. "She's always saved everyone."
"If you don't leave with us," Lexa starts slowly, her hard eyes stuck on Myles'. "They will strike again, and there won't be any survivors to save." Hazel eyes become blurry with tears again, Myles' whole body sagging in defeat under her two friends' hands. "Your people need you. You can't save everyone if you're dead."
Flicking her hazel eyes over the burning wreckage, a new fire alights in the red haired girls heart. Turning her hardening gaze back to the two girls in front of her, Myles' posture begins to straighten and her resolve strengthens.
"I want them all dead," Myles declares in a hard and detached tone, her tired and blank eyes switching between her two friends. "I want all of the Mountain Men dead."
Clarke blinks in shock, but Lexa nods, her expression loosening with relief before she turns to stalk into the trees. Myles and Clarke follow with hasty steps, the blondes shock quickly dissolving into an eerily calm determination within seconds of starting their purposeful strides. Shouting and wailing screams out from the village as they walk into the woods, leaving the scorching heat behind them. Dread and remorse sits heavily in Myles' bones as she goes against her every instinct to turn around and help them, but Lexa and Clarke are right.
What good can she do for them now? What good can she do for her friends in Mount Weather if she doesn't leave now?
Myles is torn abruptly from her quiet thoughts when a loud cracking sound splinters through the cold night air. Stopping and whipping her head around to look towards the distant fiery village through the pitch black night, the red haired teen recognises that sound instantly.
It's a gunshot. But it's not any gunshot, it's the loud bang of a sniper rifle.
"Sniper," Myles mumbles when Lexa and Clarke both stop as well. More shots ring out, each within a few seconds of one another, and the redhead recalls the conversation they overheard on the radio. Snapping her hazel eyes to Clarke's wide blue, the redhead shifts her fast pace to head back the way they came. "The spotter."
"He aimed the missile," Clarke confirms, following Myles' frantic steps to find him. "He's alone."
"Clarke, Myles," the commander calls, reaching for them and pulling Clarke to a stop behind Myles. "Just slow down," one of the blondes hands shoots out to grip Myles' arm and jerk her to a halt. "If he's a spotter, he's here to make sure we're dead." Lexa's hard eyes implore the two teens, "If he tells the mountain we're alive – "
"He won't," Clarke reassures, her tone sure and sharp.
"How can you be sure?" Lexa quizzes immediately, and blue eyes turn to Myles a second before she yanks herself from the blondes hand.
"Because he's already dead," Myles proclaims, twisting away from her two friends and hurrying back through the dark woods. "I'm going to kill him."
What's a little more blood?
It's silent for a moment behind Myles, only the distant sound of gunfire and her own quiet, quick breaths echoing in the still forest. Clarke and Lexa's steps jog up to her, sticking close to her side as she weaves through the trees and slides across the icy grass. The hasty venture back is silent, none of the girls saying anything until the shouts from Tondc and the gunshots start to become clearer.
"How will we find him?" Lexa enquires quietly when they stop walking towards the village, and start walking around it.
"The gun he has," Myles grunts out lowly through her swift movements. "It's a long range weapon. Last time, they were about this far out. He'll be down low, either crouched or lying on the ground. We might get lucky and see a flash or see the moonlight reflecting off the scope."
"We'll find him," Clarke promises, keeping close to Myles.
"If he's near us," the redhead continues in a low tone, "he won't be able to see us. If he's on the other side, he'll be able to see our movement, so don't disrupt anything. Blend in."
Gunshots thunder through the air, but the moonlight and the flames erupting from Tondc are the only lights shining in the otherwise still winter night.
Their determined steps continue wandering through the forest, with only the pale moonlight illuminating their winding path. The slow and persistent gunshots still echo through the cold night air, blasting over the top of the distant yelling in Tondc and the three girls' boots sliding on the icy grass as they scale a steep incline. Myles' blood simmers with stubbornness, her purposeful resolve to not give up keeps her tired and aching joints alive and insistent.
"It'll be light soon," Lexa mutters quietly, matching the red haired teens pace. "We won't have the darkness to hide us."
"Neither will he," Clarke maintains, trampling over the darkness cloaked bushland.
"I feel your anger," the commander assures the two Arkers after a moment, and Myles can't help rolling her eyes dramatically.
"You know," the red haired teen expresses bluntly without slowing or looking over her shoulder at the young woman. "I appreciate it, but I could use a break from all your wisdom, Yoda."
"Yoda?" Lexa repeats in confusion as a gunshot cracks through the air.
"He's a teacher," Clarke dismisses quickly, "I agree, Lexa. No more lessons."
The commander huffs, before turning her attention back to Myles, "you need to focus." Tired hazel eyes fight not to roll obnoxiously again, instead red eyebrows twitch in exasperation. "We do what we must to survive. The enemy does the same. It's not personal."
"It is to me," the redhead rebukes, climbing over a large fallen tree that's surrounded by and propped up on some large boulders. Hopping down on the other side with a huff and marching on to continue scaling upwards, Myles tosses over her shoulder to the other two. "If it isn't personal, those deaths are worthless."
"You think killing the shooter will make you feel better," Lexa states knowingly as she hops down from the tree, "but it won't. The only thing that will do that is winning this war."
"Listen," Myles snaps, digging her heels in and spinning around to get in the commanders face. "I've done everything you've asked. I've given my friend up to be enslaved." Stepping closer to stand toe to toe with the young woman, "I didn't warn our people. I'm going to make those deaths have meaning. If you aren't interested in that, you can go and gather that army and shove it up your pompous – !"
"That's enough!" Clarke hisses when Myles points angrily down at Tondc. Pushing the two apart, Lexa tilts her head up and smiles to herself, looking as if this outburst was the last piece of the puzzle to figuring out Myles. "We need to stop that shooter," the red haired teen turns away silently to continue on while her blonde friend talks, "or we're gonna have more blood on our hands."
Clarke and Lexa don't even take a step to follow Myles when movement flutters in the corners of her eyes and she comes to a sudden halt again. Yanking the gun that's tucked into her waistband out and pointing it in the direction of the disturbance, both girls behind the redhead bristle and inch closer to Myles. Leaves rustle metres away from them as a figure barrels through the dark woods and Myles lowers her gun and tucks it away when she sees him.
"Lilo?" Myles calls out in a whisper, stepping hastily towards the dark skinned man as he whips his head around to look at them.
Lincoln's steps are slow and cautious when they step towards the three girls, his face twisted up in confusion. The look on his face makes her steps falter and slow, the guilt coursing through her veins amplifying tenfold with every passing second.
"Myles?" Lincoln asks, his hoarse voice a strange blend between accusation and relief. Clarke and Lexa step towards the frozen redhead, "Clarke? Commander, wh – Octavia said you were – "
"Octavia?" Myles breathes in relief, her whole body sagging, "You've seen her? She's okay?"
"Yeah," the dark skinned man nods, his brown eyes flicking over the group. "She's fine. The few that survived the explosion are being pinned down by a sniper. It's why I'm here."
As if to emphasise his point, another gunshot thunders through the night sky. Myles whips her head around to where the sound seems to be echoing from, somewhere just across the hill from them and her boots shuffle forward subconsciously.
"That's who we're trying to find," the red haired teen explains, jogging past Lincoln and tugging lightly on his arm.
"Come on," the commander urges when he hesitates, running beside the redhead. "We have to get to higher ground."
Hearing Lexa say it stirs him into action, and he turns to follow the three girls closely.
Lexa was right. It hadn't taken long for the morning sun to make an appearance, it's bright glow illuminating the world before them. The four of them are getting restless, with still no eyes on Whitman and gunshots still blasting through the air, Myles can't help but hate the fact that he has the upper hand. Knowing he's still terrorising the villagers only fuels her intense desire to find him and end what he's done here. Images of her friends and Bellamy flash through her mind, picturing them being tortured in the same way she was and dying in excruciating pain keeps her steps rapid and focussed.
Tondc is completely swallowed up by the forest now, only hints of an orange haze and a thick black plume of smoke indicating its position. Myles doesn't look back, not even as Lexa does and Clarke falters in her steps to check on her. Instead, the redhead stays crouched right beside Lincoln, sticking her head out and quickly dashing across sandy, brittle grass to duck behind more cover. They've found where the shots are coming from, their only trouble now is to reach the snipers position before he sees them, which would be a lot easier if they could only see him.
Lexa and Clarke's footsteps join Lincoln and Myles' after another moment, and they continue to scale the sand covered land. Not a word has been said amongst them since Myles spotted the sniper, his close proximity calling for them to stay quiet. Her boots sink and slip down the sandy slope, but her steps are precise and swift. It feels like she's been doing this her whole life, as if she had always lived in the sand and knew how to traverse it quickly.
Poking her head around the boulder they're crouched behind, the red haired teen stills and she holds up two fingers to the three behind her. The gun's nozzle has shifted in its position perched on top of the decaying wooden ruins of a small building. Hazel eyes can't tell exactly, but it looks like it's facing more towards them than the village to their east. Squinting her eyes in a feeble attempt to try and see the man crouched behind the weapon, Myles barely has a second to duck back when she thinks she sees his right hand twitch.
Another loud gunshot blares through the air, and this time it was definitely aimed at them. All four of them shove their backs hard against the stone they're hiding behind, trying to escape the bullet as a hot, thick liquid cascades down Myles' face. Heavy panting breaths chorus from the four of them, and hard hazel eyes snap to lock on Lincoln's startled brown but his face freezes. Beside him, Clarke turns to them at the grounders tense posture and her face pales when her eyes land on the redhead. Lincoln lifts his hand to Myles' forehead, and it's not until his fingers graze her temple, just under the small hole from Doctor Tsing, that she feels the familiar searing sting of a bullet.
Pulling back his fingers, the dark skinned man holds his fingertips out for Myles to see the red colour of her hair coating them. A loud crack thunders through the air and the stone above their heads shatters, raining down on them as a bullet crashes into it. Pieces of stone splatter over the backs of their heads and shoulders, and Myles quickly turns her head away to take the few seconds she has while he reloads to peek her eyes around the boulder. Lexa huffs as an idea forms in the redheads mind, and hazel eyes turn back to Lincoln when another gunshot fires.
"So much for the element of surprise," the commander remarks bitterly and the redhead shifts against the boulder.
"I'll draw his fire," Myles suggests, already turning away from the group as Lincoln's hand wraps around her arm to stop her.
"Aggie!" Clarke exclaims in shock, horror clouding her and Lexa's features.
"No," Lincoln refuses, his face hard. "I'll do it."
"I'm already hit," the red haired teen reasons in exasperation, lifting the mans hand quickly to remind him of her blood slowly drying on his fingertips.
Using his distraction to her advantage, Myles yanks out her pistol and swings her arm around the boulder to shoot aimlessly at the sniper. Whitman fires back, but Myles doesn't flinch, continuing to fire and distract him as Lincoln runs around the other side of the large rock. The sniper ducks down suddenly, holding his fire, and the redhead slides back behind cover.
It's deathly silent now, the only sounds being the three girls harsh and rapid breaths. Pulling her clip down to see how many bullets she has left, her chest freezes to ice and hazel eyes flick to Clarke's wide and frantic blue.
"One left," Myles mutters breathlessly, twisting her head to keep her ears trained on the men on the other side of the boulder.
"You're the Ghost," Clarke pants, but Myles doesn't turn back to her. "You'll make it count."
Grunts sound, cutting off the red haired teens half-hearted reply and Myles takes this as her cue. Sneaking around the boulder, hazel eyes see Lincoln throw the shooter to the ground and she hurries forward. Lincoln lifts a dagger up high to slam it down into the mountain man when a shrill tone screeches through the air. Myles' footsteps halt as Clarke and Lexa inch around the boulder and Lincoln cowers away from the sniper, who quickly grabs his dagger.
Lifting her gun up as the tone stops, Myles points it at Whitman just as he yanks Lincoln to him and holds the grounders blade to his throat. Hard hazel eyes lock on the mountain man, his brown eyes and dirt covered face clearly visible without the mountain men's typical hazmat suits. Knowing this man has Arker bone marrow in his body sends chills down Myles' spine and keeps her face blank. Lincoln struggles against the mountain man's hold, but it's no use, and the redhead can see drops of blood appearing as the blade scrapes at his throat.
"Drop your weapon," Whitman orders over Lincoln's grunts, and Clarke and Lexa stop behind the red haired teen.
"Just let him kill me," Lincoln grunts out gruffly, thrashing his arms hopelessly. "Then take him out." Myles doesn't do more than twitch her red eyebrows, thinking through her options. "Aggie, please. Your people need you."
"You," Myles declares strongly, feeling her splint-covered left hand shake at her side, "Are my people."
Not a second after the last syllable is out of her mouth, Myles pulls the trigger.
Blood spurts from Lincoln's shoulder, and both men shout in shock and pain. The mountain man's hold on Lincoln falls slack, allowing the grounder to fall to his knees. Whitman keeps his eyes locked on Myles' hazel, a deep red patch growing rapidly on the left side of his chest. Standing there for a moment, the sniper opens his mouth but only blood comes from his lips before he falls heavily to the ground in a heap.
Lincoln grunts in pain, lifting his hand to his shoulder and pulling back his bloody palm. The grounders dark brown eyes lock on Myles' hazel, and she finally lowers the gun. An almost proud expression twists over his pained face, talking through his rough, pained breaths.
"Good shot," the dark skinned man praises, and Clarke rushes forward to inspect his wound.
When Lincoln's eyes shift from hers, Myles looks back at Whitman's dead body. Her own breath puffs out in transparent white clouds in front of her face, dancing through the air and obscuring the man's body.
"Did that make you feel better?" Lexa asks dully, coming to a stop beside the red haired teen.
Tears fill hazel eyes, blurring the world as her weak voice admits, "no."
"Here," Lincoln grunts, passing a foghorn to Clarke. "Blow into that, let them know the sniper is down."
The sun has just set, allowing darkness to cover their part of the Earth again when the four of them reach Tondc. Arkers who weren't there before bustle about the land, helping pull survivors out and get them the medical attention they need. Lincoln rushes forward, coming to a stop in front of the large crater the missile left behind where the dining hall had once been and holds his hand to his shoulder as he looks down. His whole body relaxes, and then he's stumbling down and out of sight.
Clarke turns to lock her eyes on Myles' hazel, the tired expression being mirrored on both teens faces. Their hoods are gone, having been tossed aside on their way into the village, and the three girls come to a stop where Lincoln had been a moment ago. Octavia and Lincoln are entwined at the bottom of the crater surrounded by the rubble of the collapsed dining hall, but Myles' hazel eyes are quickly stuck on the men lifting a stretcher up and onto level ground. All of the air leaves her lungs in one desperate breath and her boots rush up to the stretcher as her heart stutters painfully.
Marcus is covered in blood, debris and dirt, looking pale and weak as he lay on a stretcher. A tourniquet is tied tightly around his right leg, thick blood coating his whole pant leg.
"Oh, my god," Myles shudders out, her shaking hands gripping the councillors arm tightly. "Oh, my god. What happened? Oh, my god."
"It's okay," Marcus breathes out weakly, his exhausted brown eyes watching the devastated redhead quickly keep up with the men carrying him. "The building fell, but I'm okay."
"No, you're not," the red haired teen refuses, shaking her head as hot tears pour down her cold face. "Oh, my god. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm s – "
"Shh, shh," the councillor insists, lifting his hand out of the red shock blanket draped over him to reach blindly for hers. Grounders start chanting 'Heda' around them, but the two Arkers are oblivious to them. "I'm okay. This wasn't your fault, it's okay."
"I killed him," Myles blubbers, crouching down when they lower Marcus' stretcher to the ground. "There was a sniper and I killed him."
"You did," Marcus breathes, trying to hold his droopy eyes open, "what you had to do. What you could. That's more than anyone here deserves from you."
"The dead will be avenged," Lexa's hard voice bellows, followed by an ear-splitting, loud cheer from the grounders around them.
Marcus rolls his head lazily, as if looking for the source of the voice before saying, "sounds like you're needed." Myles hesitates, the burning pain in her chest sitting heavily at the sight of the closest thing she has to a father withering away in front of her. She shakes her head, and he continues, "Go. Show them what the Ghost can do."
"I don't know if I want to anymore," Myles admits tearfully, rocking on her knees on the ground beside the councillor. Marcus' tired eyes flicker in confusion, "if I do, if I end this, stop Mount Weather – I – I can't come back."
"I know," Marcus acknowledges softly after a moment, his sad expression emphasised by the grit slathered over his face. Squeezing her hand weakly, "that's why I put him on Tesla."
"Until I know – " the red haired teen stumbles to explain, "until I know he's dead, I can't be here. I can't stay – I can't, I can't."
"That's okay," the councillor assures, squeezing her hand again as his eyes droop shut.
Lifting their connected hands up to her face, "I have to go now. You need help and I have to go."
"I know," Marcus mumbles, "I'm okay. You go. Be the good guy and save the kids."
"Lexa, Clarke and I battle Mount Weather tomorrow," Myles informs him quietly, as soft drops of cold rain start spitting down on them. "I'll end this."
"Good girl," Marcus smiles, huffing quietly and the redhead kisses the back of his hand before letting it go.
Tucking his hand under the blanket, Myles stands and leaves the men and Abby fussing over him to do their jobs in peace. Clarke stands not far behind them, watching the two of them and the red haired teen wipes her face before stepping up to her. Sniffing the last of her tears away, Myles swallows before meeting Clarke's soft eyes.
"He'll be okay," Clarke promises, her tone confident and kind.
Myles nods distractedly, lifting her good hand to grasp the heart-shaped locked around her neck, "yeah." Glancing her exhausted hazel eyes around the burning ruins of Tondc through the light rain, the red haired teen tilts her head, "You ready?"
"For Mount Weather?" Clarke asks, and Myles nods slowly again, her eyes stopping on Lincoln and Octavia talking with Indra to their left. "As ready as I'll ever be. You?"
"Let's bring them home," the redhead proclaims, meeting the blondes blue eyes.
Octavia and Lincoln turn away from Indra and start to walk away. Myles' eyes switch back to them, and she slowly inches forward, watching as Lincoln turns back to Indra. Clarke's footsteps crunch behind her, and Octavia's deep brown eyes snap up to them and soften, coming to a stop beside them. In the corner of hazel eyes, Myles sees Indra pull Lincoln in for a hug and the redhead can't stop herself from whipping her head to them in shock.
The two teens with her follow her gaze, and still in surprise. Smiling slightly, Myles looks back at Octavia and the Blake sibling meets her eyes. Those deep brown eyes make Myles' heart clench painfully, sending thoughts of Bellamy fluttering through her mind.
"I thought you were dead," the Blake sister divulges, tensing her jaw and switching her gaze between the two girls. Lifting a hand and grasping Myles arm, Octavia continues, "I'm glad you're not."
"You, too," Clarke replies, and Myles lifts her good hand to wrap over the Blake siblings.
"Thank god you're okay," the redhead breathes, shaking her head. "It would've killed me if you weren't."
Octavia nods, a small smile softening her face as she squeezes Myles' hand. Pulling away, Octavia walks towards Lincoln and Indra, and both Clarke and Myles release a long breath in relief. Turning to each other, Myles lifts her good hand up and Clarke huffs sarcastically before gripping it with her hand. Turning away, both Arkers start walking to find Lexa when Abby steps away from Marcus in front of them, and the mother and daughters steps both falter.
Stopping as well, Myles turns back to Clarke, but the blonde doesn't move forward, a tense look on her face. Abby walks up to them, covered in dirt and rubble with blood smeared over her clothes and pale skin. When the doctor stops in front of them and still neither one says anything, Myles bounces on her heels.
"What's the damage?" Myles enquires eventually, when the air starts to feel so thick that it's suffocating her. "With Marcus?"
"He'll live," Abby provides, her eyes softening at the question. Both teens nod slowly, and Clarke opens and closes her mouth, but doesn't say anything. The woman shifts her gaze to her daughter, "We could really use your help."
"I can't," Clarke refuses, shaking her head and pursing her lips. "We're leaving."
At her mother's shocked face, the redhead continues for her, "we've arranged for a caravan to take you and the other wounded to Camp Jaha."
"Clarke, Myles," Abby presses, her tone hard and her face twisting in distress.
"The sniper wasn't wearing a hazmat suit," Clarke explains, lifting her arms slightly only to drop them back down.
Realisation dawns on Abby's face, and her eyes switch between the two girls, "the marrow treatment works."
"They're going to kill them all," Myles finishes slowly, ignoring the violent shiver that runs through her left arm.
"All our friends," the blonde adds, scrunching up her face as she fights back tears.
"Then you better hurry," the doctor responds dryly, and hazel eyes lock on blue before both teens start to walk off.
Once they pass Abby, they're pulled to a stop and Myles turns around to see the doctor holding her daughters arm. Blue eyes slowly turn to hazel and Myles gets the hint, letting go of Clarke's hand to continue walking by herself. It doesn't take more than a few short moments to find Lexa, the young woman standing not far away from the Arkers and the redhead quickly approaches her. The commanders brown eyes lock on Myles when she gets near her, and her posture straightens.
"It's time," Myles announces, slowing to a stop and turning back to look at Clarke and her mother.