I guess the ruse is up on Maynard's eventual romantic partner. If you only have half a brain and haven't figured it out yet, it's Raven. So, there will be Maynard/Raven scenes, or at least the buildup to Maynard/Raven. Review and give me a good ship name. I'll pick the best one.
Darcy: Thanks! There will be some moments of that this season, but probably not much actual progress until next season.
Hitmen101: You're welcome.
PegasiJake: Your review was a bit confusing, but I can see why you think that Maynard is replacing Finn. Promise that isn't the case. Anyway, I appreciate the review and the kind words.
Scurra71900: Don't apologize bro. I love reading your reviews. They really help me to think about the future plot. So please, keep guessing!
Silentmayhem: Yeah, unfortunately trees are a bit difficult to fight. I sort of agree with your thoughts on Clarke. She's way too emotional for me, and her self-righteousness is a major problem. Also, I didn't know that Lincoln dies. I can promise I'll try to find a way to keep him alive. He should have an interesting friendship with Maynard, parts of which actually start here in this chapter.
Here we go again.
When I woke up, I found the tent empty. Raven had evidently left at some point, leaving me alone to rest. The emptiness didn't necessarily bother me, but I was disappointed that I didn't find her. I felt sweat drip down my left armpit. It was sort of disgusting, but I think that was my body's way of telling me that I was hydrated.
I wouldn't sweat if I was dehydrated. The body required water to produce sweat. So that dribbling sweat, disgusting as it was, actually proved helpful. Also, I no longer felt foggy and confused. The drunk feeling was gone, but unfortunately it was replaced with the fever's equivalent of a hangover. Basically, I could tell what was going on, but my head hurt like shit.
I grabbed the blanket and threw it off my body revealing my half naked body. My legs still hurt, though not as much as they had last night. I needed to find a pair of pants. Glancing around Raven's tent revealed no pants. Someone had probably left them in the dropship.
I braced my feet on the floor preparing for the pain I would experience as I stood. I took a deep breath in and pushed against the floor with my legs.
"Shit," I swore as my legs screamed in protest.
I took multiple deep breaths doing my best to control the pain. I closed my eyes, wobbling slightly, but managed to keep myself under control. Opening my eyes again, I gritted my teeth and took a step. The pain was excruciating, not as bad I as I had thought it would be though.
Outside it sounded like something was happening. Judging from the tone of the voices and the smells wafting to my nose, it wasn't good. Clarke's and Raven's smells in particular stood out. They both smelled like fear. Now I was nervous. I had to find out what was happening.
As I left the tent, I bumped into Raven who was barreling the other way.
"Oof," She grunted as she ran right into me. On my wobbly legs this wasn't the greatest feeling.
"Woah," I said. "Tryin' to run me down?"
"Maynard," Raven said breathlessly. "Help me right now."
"What's goin' on?" I asked.
"We need to move the radio into the dropship," Raven explained hastily.
"Uh," I started to ask another question, but stopped, based on her smell she was terrified. If we needed to move the radio now, then I would help her and ask questions later. "Okay."
"Good," Raven said her brain still running in super speed mode. "Pick up the main piece. I'll get all the extra tools I'll need."
"Got it," I moved to the radio limping heavily and clamped my hand around it lifting the brick like object into my arms.
I limped out of the tent into the open. This was the first time I had been outside the tent in about a day. It felt good to be outside again. My feeling of enjoyment was short lived though, as I saw the reason, we had to move the radio. A dark ominous cloud loomed over the horizon.
"Gonna be another long day," I said to myself.
I took the radio up inside the dropship and placed it on the floor near the far wall. Then I looked down at my legs, still self-conscious about my lack of pants. At least I wasn't naked though.
Raven came in just behind me her arms filled with tools, wires, and other technical shit. She ran over to the radio and fell to her knees in front of it.
"Where're my pants?" I asked her.
"Don't know," Raven returned.
"Jesus," I complained sitting down against the wall.
"Raven, Raven!" Clarke called as she dashed up the ramp. "You have everything?"
"Yeah," Raven responded. "I'm working on it."
Clarke whipped her head around quickly before heading back the other way. She stopped momentarily when she saw me but said nothing and walked straight past me.
"Now I know somethin's wrong," I said. "'Cause Clarke just looked right at me and didn't scold me for bein' outta bed."
Raven said nothing, completely intent on her task. It seemed everyone was ignoring me right now.
Then a stampede of people rushed up the ramp and through the door. They were holding various items that people probably didn't want left out in the storm. Among the crowd were Jasper, Bellamy, and Octavia, and I couldn't help but notice that the siblings stood as far apart from each other as was possible.
"What the hell's goin' on now?" I asked throwing my arms up in the air.
"We could've used you out there," Bellamy snapped at me as he walked past.
I made a confused gesture to no one in particular.
"If there's anything in your tent you want to stay dry, bring it in here," Octavia advised before going the opposite direction of her older brother.
"Fuckin' hell," I swore as I pushed myself to my feet. "Sorry Clarke, gonna have to walk some more."
I rushed out the door. The wind had picked up tremendously in the couple minutes of time I had spent in the dropship. I half limped half jogged as I made my way toward my tent. In that moment I wished I had set it up closer to the dropship. Smelling the air, I reckoned I had about five minutes before the heavens opened up.
"Okay, okay," I said to myself trying to figure out what I wanted to take out. "I need my crossbow and other shit, ain't lettin' that blanket get wet, and still need some pants."
I quickly jammed my boots into my canvas bag followed by my blanket. I threw objects around randomly searching for my tac pants or even my spare jeans. I couldn't find either.
"Shit, shit, shit," I swore again. "I'm gonna be locked inside the damn dropship with no fuckin' pants."
I swiped my crossbow from where it leaned against my desk and slung it over my shoulder violently. I damn near hit myself in the head with the thing.
The wind howled as I exited the tent with my shit in tow. Once again, I half limped half jogged to the dropship. I made it in through the door just as the rain started pouring. That had been close.
"Maynard?" Clarke asked surprised as I walked through the door. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Makin' sure my shit don't get wet," I explained.
"You should be resting right now," Clarke argued back evidently not clear headed right now.
"Yeah I know," I shot back. "But I'm not lettin' myself and my stuff get soaked."
Clarke said nothing still looking out of it.
"Ya okay?" I asked slightly concerned.
"Finn got stabbed by a grounder," Clarke said. "I can't do the surgery. We need to contact the ark so my mom can walk me through the procedure."
"Holy shit," I said shocked. "How the hell'd that happen?"
"No idea," Clarke returned sort of dismissively. I didn't blame her for her tone though.
"Well," I said unsure of how to continue. After looking at my legs though I knew what to say. "Ya seen my pants?"
"What?" Clarke asked incredulously.
"I'm guessin' ya took them off to stitch up my legs," I explained. "Now I can't find them."
"Probably over there somewhere," Clarke pointed to the left of where Raven was working to contact the ark.
"Thanks," I said starting to walk away, but without knowing why I stopped and turned back to her. "Ya got this Clarke. If there's anyone who can handle this, it's you."
Clarke spluttered for a moment still looking at me not knowing what to say. I smiled encouragingly and walked off to find my pants.
"Yeah," I heard Clarke whisper to herself as I walked away. "I hope so."
"Ya got it!" I called over my shoulder. "Don't doubt yerself."
I didn't hear any further disparaging words from Clarke so I assumed she would be alright. She would need her confidence to get this done. Finn's life depended on it.
I dropped my bag on the floor and placed my crossbow on top of it. I glanced around searching for my pants but didn't spot them anywhere. Shit. I might have to steal some kid's pants.
I limped around, pushing my way past anyone who stood in my way. Then I saw my pants. A guy with dark skin held them up looking at them. I thought I recognized his smell.
"Hey Darius," I said to him. "Gimme my pants."
"Oh," Darius said quickly handing them over with a nervous look on his face. "Didn't know they were yours."
"Right," I said skeptically.
I then sat down on the spot and pulled my pants on over my naked legs.
"Man," Darius said sort of awed. "What do you do to stay in shape?"
He was looking at my abs jealously. I had to admit though that my abs were pretty great. They were symmetrical and everything. Plus, they stuck out more than they had in my previous life.
"Sit-ups chief," I answered. "Sit-ups, push-ups, and running. Plus, a little shadow sparring afterwards."
"That's it?" He asked disbelievingly.
"Pretty much," I answered. "But ya gotta do a lot of them."
"Obviously," He said now staring at my chest. "How many girls do you think I'd get if I worked out like that?"
"Dunno," I returned. "Probly more than me. You're taller, and you aren't a redneck."
"You think girls aren't into that accent?" Darius asked.
"Nah," I returned. "It's kinda a bad first impression 'cause people tend to think that yer part of the KKK or somethin'."
Darius gave me a sort of odd look as I finished pulling my pants. I stood facing him.
"It seems like you're pulling girls just fine man," Darius said looking over my shoulder where Clarke was standing.
"She already had sex with Finn bro," I said.
"What?" Darius asked. "I thought that was just a rumor."
"Yeah," I returned while looking at Clarke. "Sometimes rumors are true."
"Well I'm sorry," Darius said.
"Why do ya think I care?" I asked.
"It just seemed like you two had a connection or something," Darius said.
I chuckled and smirked not really knowing what to say. I still wasn't sure how I felt about Clarke. My feelings regarding women were always confusing. Crushes came and went day by day. I looked at Clarke again catching her eyes. She gave me a tight-lipped smile. My lips twitched upward slightly in response.
"See," Darius commented on the nonverbal exchange between Clarke and I. "Connection."
"Shut up," I said disparagingly.
Darius just smiled as I left him in favor of sitting alone.
"This is Raven Reyes calling Ark station," I heard for what must've been the hundredth time.
While being trapped in the dropship Raven had managed to get the radio working somewhat. Now all she had to do was actually contact the Ark, which was easier said than done. For my part I had sat against the wall next to my bag of stuff listening to the pandemonium and humming songs to myself.
I am surrendering
To gravity and the unknown
I sang the chorus of Gravity by A Perfect Circle, as I had been doing for the last ten minutes. The song was really stuck in my head.
Catch me
Heal me
Lift me back up to the sun
I choose to live
The song was sort of ethereal yet beautiful. It reminded me of the power of the universe and the vastness of what was really out there. Like many songs by A Perfect Circle, Gravity featured a strange spiritual sort of quality. Not a Christian spirituality, more of an embracing nature spirituality.
I kept my lyrics quiet so as not to disturb anyone. It wasn't a scared quiet either. So many people are concerned about singing around others. It's simply mind over matter. Obtaining full control over yourself is the key.
"Come in Ark station," Raven pleaded with the radio.
I sang the second verse to Gravity.
I fell again
Like a baby
Unable to stand on my own
"Can anyone hear me?" Raven asked again, her concern evident in her voice.
"You sure you have the right frequency?" A girl asked.
"Yeah I'm sure," Raven snapped back.
Tail in hand
Dizzy and clearly
Unable to just let this go
"Raven," Clarke approached the dark-haired woman from behind. "You can do this ok?" Her tone was reassuring.
Clarke left Raven to stand over Finn's body. She had checked his pulse periodically to be sure that the spacewalker hadn't conked out on us. She used a strip of cloth to clean the area around the knife sticking out of Finn's gut.
"Come in Ark station," Raven said looking nervously at Finn. "This is Raven Reyes I'm on the ground with the hundred."
High and surrendering
To gravity and the unknown
"We need you," Raven said on the verge of tears.
Catch me
Heal me
Lift me back up to the sun
I choose to live
The wind continued roaring outside. The people inside the dropship were quickly becoming despondent. They were losing hope that we could contact the Ark. Low whispers roamed around the room creating one quiet drone of hopelessness.
Just like last night, the smell of the crowd reflected its appearance. Everyone's faces were downcast. Words were said quietly. Nobody laughed. Nobody smiled. Things were looking grim.
I choose to live
"This is Raven Reyes. The hundred are alive," Raven said again. "Calling Ark station. Please answer me."
"This is a restricted channel," A voice crackled over the radio. "Who is this? Please identify yourself."
At the sound of the voice any thoughts regarding Raven's statement, 'the hundred are alive', were dispelled. Though, it was true that not all one hundred of us were still alive.
Another event occurred when the voice came over the radio. The people in the already crowded dropship began to crowd around the radio like they were trying to hear it better. I reckoned even those with normal ears could pick up the conversation easy enough.
One girl almost stepped on me while trying to fight her way to the radio.
"Hey," I warned her. "I ain't a footrest. So don't step on me."
"Sorry," Her voice was meek and afraid.
I turned my attention back to the conversation between Raven and the Ark.
"This is Raven Reyes," She answered. "I'm from Mecha Station. I'm transmitting from the ground. The hundred are alive. Please, you need to get Dr Abby Griffin. Dr Abby Griffin, now."
"Holy shit," I said softly still sort of flabbergasted by the whole deal. Raven had actually done it. She had contacted the Ark.
"Hang on Raven," The voice on the other end said. "We're trying to boost your signal."
The radio abruptly cut, and the room went totally silent while we waited to hear what would come back from the other side. I had even stopped singing. My total attention was on the events unfolding before my eyes.
"Raven?" A female voice said through the radio. "Raven can you hear me?"
Clarke recognized the voice a took the microphone from Raven to speak into the radio. Apparently, the tech support on both sides had been bullied off the line.
"Mom?" Clarke asked uncertainly. "Mom it's me." Clarke said again stronger this time.
"Clarke?" The voice asked. It seemed that it belonged to Abby Griffin, Clarke's mother.
"Mom I need your help," Clarke got straight to the point. "One of our people was stabbed by a grounder."
All eyes were on the blonde now. No one was thinking of anything else. This was the first big breakthrough we had made since coming to the ground. It was pretty amazing just how quick people's moods could swing when something good happened.
"Clarke this is the Chancellor," Another voice spoke over the radio. Thelonius Jaha. "Are you saying there are survivors on the ground?"
"Relevance?" I asked the group at large.
"Sshhhhhh," Multiple people hushed me at once.
"Only tryin' to make a point," I said relenting to the mob.
"Yes," Clarke answered. "The Earth is survivable. We're not alone."
Silence was our only answer. It held for a solid ten seconds as the people on the Ark wrapped their heads around the idea of a survivable Earth.
"Mom he's dying," Clarke said. "The knife's still in his chest."
There was no answer, and I could practically feel the room getting colder with every second that ticked by. Clarke started pacing back and forth across the floor waiting for an answer.
"Relax," I reminded her. "They're just figurin' everythin' out. Give yer mom time."
Clarke's eyes met mine. She held my gaze for a moment, letting me know she understood what I was saying. Then, she proceeded to ignore me. Clarke started pacing once more. I shrugged. At least I had tried.
"Clarke," Jaha said over the radio. "Is my son with you?"
"Ah shit," I swore knowing that Jaha would not take his son's death well.
The room collectively had a similar reaction, holding their breath in anticipation.
"I'm so sorry," Clarke stammered. "Wells is…Wells is dead."
Radio silence again. I banged my head on the wall twice in a fit of impatience.
"At least we got contact," I said under my breath. "Coulda been a lot worse."
Raven turned to me from her seat in front of the radio and made a cutting gesture with her hand. I looked at her inquisitively, not sure what she was talking about.
"Quit hitting your head on the wall," She whispered, keeping her voice quiet to avoid talking over anyone who spoke on the other end.
I snorted lightly and rested my head on the wall instead of bumping the wall again and again. I closed my eyes and started humming a different song, It's Been Awhile by Staind. I didn't actually sing the song to avoid interrupting communication with the Ark.
"Alright," Abby finally picked up the radio again. "I'm going to talk you through it step by step."
The wind outside picked up dramatically, blowing against the dropship and rattling the outside panels.
"Clarke give me five," The radio broke slightly when the dropship rattled again. "To medical."
"What?" Clarke shouted. "Raven what's wrong?"
"Storm's blockin' the signal," I answered for Raven.
The Hispanic woman nodded to Clarke in agreeance with my point.
The group gathered inside the dropship suddenly began to panic. They quickly lost whatever hope they had and were now shouting over each other. I covered my ears to block out the needless commotion.
Clarke said something to everyone, but no one could hear her due to the widespread panic in the ranks.
"Hey!" I stood shouting to the group. "Shut the hell up!" I didn't make for a particularly intimidating figure at the moment. I was holding onto an I-beam to keep from falling over.
"I need someone to go get some alcohol," Clarke ordered. "I need to clean the wound while we wait for my mom."
"Got it," Octavia was the first to respond rushing out the door in a hurry.
"Glad I ain't her," I quipped to Raven.
"Tell me about it," Raven returned.
I wobbled slightly on my feet and lost my grip on the beam. Stumbling across the room I managed to catch myself on the opposite wall.
"You okay?" Darius asked from right next to me. "You look like you drank too much of Jasper and Monty's moonshine."
"Yeah," I returned annoyed. "Damn legs are weak as hell right now."
I slid down the wall and sat across from my stuff instead of next to it. I just didn't have the energy to go back across the room again. Darius sat down next to me throwing his arms over his knees.
"They looked pretty bad last night," Darius commented. "What happened?"
"Nothin'," I answered gruffly. No way I was embarrassing myself again.
"Well," Darius said. "Looks like nothing got you pretty good."
I grumbled unhappily to myself. It was sort of annoying that everyone was pestering me about my injuries. I guess that was the consequence to my action though. I probably deserved to be made fun of for fighting a tree.
The wind blew through the door as Octavia returned with two bottles of alcohol. She was completely soaked. She approached Clarke and extended one of the bottles to her. Clarke opened the bottle and smelled it before making a disgusted sound.
"That's Monty's moonshine," Darius said displeased with the two for taking good alcohol.
"Looks like they're gonna have to make some more," I pointed out.
"Waste of a good drink," Darius huffed while sliding further down the wall.
A rumble of thunder echoed overhead. It wasn't very far away based on the sound.
"Storm's getting worse," Octavia commented.
"Monroe," Clarke signaled to a shorter girl. "Close the doors."
"We still have people out there," Monroe objected.
"Monty and Jasper still aren't back yet," Octavia agreed. "Neither is Bellamy."
"It's alright," Clarke assured her. "They'll find somewhere to ride it out."
Raven came bulling through the crowd as she normally did, holding some sharp object in her fingers.
"One suture needle," Raven said approaching Clarke her arm outstretched.
"Right," Clarke said taking the needle. "I still need something to close the wound."
"There's some wire on the second level," Octavia said. "I used it for the tents."
"Let's see it," Clarke said.
"Stay away from the blue wires that run through the ceiling," Raven warned. "I rigged it to the solar cells in the roof. That means they're hot, you got that?"
"Yeah I got that," Octavia snapped her back turned, not wanting to be lectured to.
"Looks like the ladies are runnin' our lives right now," I commented on the events happening in front of me.
"That any different than usual?" Darius asked.
"Guess not," I conceded the dark-skinned guy's point.
Raven and Clarke faced each other next to Finn's body. Clarke looked at Raven with some apprehensiveness as the Hispanic woman spoke.
"Hey, they're back," Someone said noticing the appearance of Bellamy, Jasper, and Monty.
The wind and rain blew through the door as the guys came in. I turned my cheek so as not to be struck in the face by the rain. I wiped my face off with my right hand.
"Bellamy," Octavia said coming down the ladder.
With them they carried a body of a man. He had tan skin and a shaved head with a bandage wrapped around his forehead. They tossed the body unceremoniously on the ground. It took me a moment to realize that the man was Lincoln.
"Is that a grounder?" Some guy asked. No one answered him.
"The hell are you doing?" Octavia asked her brother.
"It's time to get some answers," Bellamy said.
"Oh, you mean revenge?" Octavia intentionally twisted Bellamy's statement.
"I mean intel," Bellamy responded coldly. The siblings didn't seem to be on the best of terms now. "Get him upstairs," Bellamy signaled for Monty and Jasper to move Lincoln up the ladder. "Maynard, you too. We could use your help on this one."
"Bellamy she's right," Clarke said coming up to Bellamy as she spoke.
"Clarke honey," Abby's voice interrupted the argument. "We're ready. Can you hear me?"
"Look this is not who we are," Clarke admonished in a low voice.
"Clarke?" Abby asked over the radio.
"Well," I said to Darius standing with my hand on the wall for support. "My people need me. See ya later."
"Don't let nothing cut your legs up again," Darius said.
During our conversation Bellamy had turned from Clarke and started getting Lincoln up the ladder with Monty and Jasper.
"May?" Clarke stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.
"I won't let them do anythin' that'll kill him," I promised unsure of what to say about the nickname.
"That's not what I'm worried about," Clarke said. "I don't want to do something we can't undo."
"Nothin' that ya do can be undone," I returned dryly. "And like I said, if it goes too far. I'll stop it."
"Just," Clarke paused as Abby's voice came over the radio again. "You don't torture him okay?"
"Not sure I could anyway," I quipped. "I can barely stand up."
Clarke smiled nervously. She was still heavily affected by Finn's condition, and laughing for her was difficult right now. She seemed to appreciate my attempted at humor though
I bumped her shoulder with my fist, "Ya got this."
Meeting her eyes for a moment, I gave the blonde a nod and climbed the ladder after Bellamy and the moonshiners.
Upstairs, with Lincoln now chained up to prevent an escape attempt, the four of us were ready to go to work on the guy. We had to find what information we could from him, as there were so many things we didn't know about the grounders.
Unfortunately, however, people from downstairs were now making their way upstairs based on Clarke's orders. That would make things a little bit more difficult.
I had pulled up one of the plastic chairs that were now lying around everywhere. We had pulled most of them off the metal benches and left them lying around for people to use.
Now awake, Lincoln was resisting his captors vigorously. He'd wrench against Monty and Jasper, doing his best to fight back in what little ways he could. I had no doubt that Lincoln could win in a one on one confrontation with any of the hundred except me. However, there were a lot of us around, and I was certain that, should he try to escape, that we would catch him and beat his ass.
Clanging sounded from the bottom as another delinquent ascended the ladder. I couldn't tell the difference in the way people climbed ladders like I could with footsteps, but a voice told me who had just come up.
"Octavia get out of here," A gruff voice sounded from the gathering group.
I turned in my chair to see Bellamy and Octavia approaching one another. Neither looked to be pleased with the other.
"I told you he was protecting me," Octavia said slowly. "You didn't have to do this."
"This isn't about you," Bellamy returned. "I'm doing this for all of us."
"You did that for all of us?" Octavia asked gesturing to Lincoln's battered face.
"No, I did that for Finn and Jasper," Bellamy answered. "And Diggs and John and Roma."
"It wasn't even him," Octavia argued.
"You don't know that," Bellamy shot back.
Octavia breathed slowly unsure of what to say. Either that or she was attempting to keep her patience.
"We need to know what we're up against," Bellamy pressed. "How many there are and why they're killing us. And he's going to tell us right now."
Bellamy turned his back on Octavia and walked slowly towards Lincoln.
"No Bellamy please," Octavia reached out and grabbed Bellamy's arm.
"Miller get her out of here," Bellamy ordered to one of his lackeys as he shook free of his sister's grip.
"I was there!" Octavia pleaded with Bellamy. "Hey! Get off me!" She shoved Miller back.
"I don't even think he speaks English," Octavia said. "He won't understand you." She started climbing down the ladder.
"Oh, I think he will," Bellamy spoke dramatically.
Despite Bellamy's dramatic statement, a language barrier could be a problem.
"Uh, just one question before you put the hands on this guy," I spoke up from my spot on the right of the chained grounder. "What if yer plan works and he does answer yer questions? How do we even know what he's sayin'?"
"Doesn't matter," Bellamy returned. "We'll give him a pretty good incentive to communicate effectively."
"What if he can't though?" I questioned the efficacy of this method.
"He'll figure it out," Bellamy said confidently.
I groaned in frustration. If Lincoln really couldn't answer our questions, then how were we supposed to find anything out?
"I kind of hoped you'd help me," Bellamy continued speaking.
"Can't do that," I said. Bellamy gave me a confused look. "My legs," I pointed at my shins. "Plus, I promised Clarke I wouldn't torture anyone."
"Fine," Bellamy said frustrated. "I'll handle this then."
"Just don't kill him," I stated. "Then ya won't get any answers."
Bellamy said nothing.
"Don't hit him in any bony area's either," I advised. "Try to aim for the soft tissue. Otherwise you'll break yer hands."
Bellamy and Lincoln eyed each other for a moment. Each was trying to figure out what capabilities the other had, though for different reasons. Bellamy searched for any sign of weakness, and for how best to break the grounder. Lincoln was probably trying to determine how threatening Bellamy was alone. The grounder refused to look away from Bellamy, matching his stare evenly.
The stare down was broken by Bellamy's first punch, an uppercut to the floating rib. That was a good place to land the first blow. The floating rib was located at the bottom of the rib cage and slightly off to the side of the gut. It was called floating, because it was one bone surrounded by soft tissue, meaning it could be moved back and forth. This made it a particularly painful place to be hit. Additionally, the liver lay just behind it, making the floating rib an even more enticing target.
Blows continued to rain down on Lincoln's abdominal area, so I knew Bellamy had heeded my warnings about striking bonier areas.
"Why are your people attacking us?" Bellamy finally stopped to question the man.
Lincoln stared up at Bellamy. Generally, the two would stand eye to eye, but after being repeatedly struck Lincoln was now sagging slightly. Despite this he betrayed no sign of fear, not in appearance or even in his smell. This guy had nerves of steel.
The grounder turned his head to look at me, still sitting off to the right. I wasn't sure what he was thinking about when looking at me, but something told me he was taking me more seriously than he was taking Bellamy. I wasn't surprised though, since Bellamy's punches weren't really technical or accurate. This betrayed the dark-haired man's inexperience in combat.
"Got an answer?" I asked as Lincoln looked at me.
Once again, Lincoln remained soundless. Not unexpected.
I wondered briefly whether I should share my knowledge of his name. Based on Lincoln's knowledge there was no way I could know his name. Using it could intimidate him into talking. That would require me to explain how I knew the grounder's name, which would inevitably end badly.
The information gained could be worth it though. We could learn that the killings were based on some religious code, or that they were simply territorial. Any information we learned could save lives later, but was I willing to give up this camaraderie I had found? Also, there was the question of how much the one hundred would lose without my help.
'Maybe that point was a bit narcistic' the doubtful part of my brain questioned. I knew it wasn't though. The skills I possessed were invaluable to our survival. I was now a key cog in the machine that kept us alive on irradiated Earth. Removing that cog could prove problematic.
"Right, whatever," I said shrugging to Bellamy.
The dropship rumbled again as the storm raged around us. Thankfully, we had a strong structure like this, because if we didn't, well that could've been really bad for us. We would all have hypothermia, any supplies we had would be ruined, and we wouldn't be able to start a fire to keep us warm and dry for days. We'd probably be spending at least the next two or three days cooped up and hiding from the storm. Not something I was looking forward to, but it would be better than getting stuck out in the wind and rain.
Shouting downstairs signaled that something was going on. I also could smell Finn's fear now. He was awake. My guess was that Clarke was now removing the knife from Finn's gut.
Something slammed into the wall of the dropship throwing everyone off their balance. Jasper and Monty fell into the wall, Bellamy swayed unsteadily, and Lincoln leaned over at an awkward angle held up only by the chains on his wrists. For my part, I didn't move, mostly thanks to my position in a chair.
People screamed downstairs and upstairs as many people in the crowd fell over on top of each other.
"What the hell was that?" Bellamy asked concerned. "Are we under attack?"
"It was probably a tree," Monty said.
"Could be," I agreed. "It'd have to be pretty heavy to move the dropship."
"We're going to try this one more time," Bellamy turned back to Lincoln ignoring the side conversation. "What's your name?"
I felt sort of bad for withholding information. Only sort of. I didn't want people to lose their trust in me.
"Where's your camp?" Bellamy continued. "How many of you are there?"
"Hey," Miller spoke from the other side of the room. "What's this stuff."
Without moving I saw into the small box he had found. Inside were various vials which contained liquids or herbs.
"Hell knows with these people," Bellamy said.
Bellamy grabbed a bound book off the floor and started to open it. Lincoln fought against his restraints making grunting sounds like he was trying to get to Bellamy.
"Looks like we found something he doesn't want us to see," Bellamy noticed.
He rifled through the pages quickly. The pages of the book were filled with drawings. Most were of landscapes or animals. I wasn't sure where Lincoln had found the materials to make drawings like these. People were pretty ingenious.
"These aren't bad," Bellamy commented.
Lincoln made a murderous face toward Bellamy. I didn't even have to smell his aggression to know that he wanted to take Bellamy's head off.
"Where'd ya get the stuff to make those drawings anyway?" I asked genuinely curious.
Lincoln looked to me, though his look was slightly less murderous than the one he gave Bellamy. That was a good sign, I guess.
As Bellamy flipped through the pages, he found one drawing in particular that stood out. It was of a woman, Octavia. Uh oh. I hoped I'd be able to keep Bellamy from killing Lincoln now.
Bellamy looked up from the book straight at Lincoln. He matched the murderous glare with an equally dangerous look of his own. He looked back down to the book of drawings and turned the page.
"That's our camp," He noted the drawing on the left page. "And I'm guessing if I added up those marks, I'd get a-hundred-and-two. Ten are crossed out."
"That's how many people we've lost," I said as Bellamy stood and walked toward Lincoln threateningly.
"They've been watching us ever since we got here," Bellamy concluded.
Lincoln just continued his trademarked death stare, saying nothing. The beatings had stopped, albeit briefly, and I wondered if that was bolstering his confidence slightly. If there's one thing you shouldn't do when imprisoned and being questioned, it's hold your silence. That only increases suspicion and feelings of animosity. Plus, angry captors aren't exactly friendly captors.
"Bring the book," Bellamy ordered.
The blonde guy whose name I didn't know brought it and handed it over to Bellamy. Bellamy then made a show of flipping through the pages slowly, showing them to Lincoln and the rest of us.
"What the hell is that?" The blonde guy asked when Bellamy flipped to a shadowy man-like drawing.
"Friend of yours?" Bellamy asked Lincoln.
The rungs on the ladder clanged as someone climbed up. A blonde head of hair appeared through the hatch, as Clarke stepped onto the second floor.
The blonde guy stood threateningly in front of Clarke, like somehow, she was beneath him. For some reason that irked me. I never liked people who thought they were so important that they could tell everyone else what to do. The fact that he was doing it to Clarke only made me angrier.
"Get the hell out of my way," Clarke snapped.
"It's okay," Bellamy said. "Let her through."
"Yer fragile ego require you shut down people you disagree with?" I asked patronizingly.
"Shut the hell up Maynard," The blonde guy said, now standing next to my seat.
"Dumbass," I said not caring if anyone heard my overt comment.
The blonde guy looked at me angrily, like he wanted to hit me. Something held him back though. It could've been Bellamy's order to accommodate Clarke, or it could've been my intimidating presence. I kind of hoped it was the latter.
"Well if he didn't hate us before he does now," Clarke commented dryly.
Bellamy looked to Clarke angrily, "Who cares?" he asked rhetorically. He grabbed Clarke by the wrist and drug her to the other side of the room for privacy's sake.
"Why couldn't we just section off different tasks to different people and let them handle?" I questioned. "Federalism would be real helpful right now. This true democracy ain't workin'."
"What?" Miller asked turning to me confused. His buddy also faced me with confusion.
"Ya'll don't know anythin' do ya," I stated more than asked.
"If we split up wouldn't that create conflict?" The blonde guy asked.
"Ya don't think there's enough conflict now?" I returned. "'Cause it looks to me like we're too conflicted and if we section off responsibility it'll give everything somethin' to focus on and help with."
"Uhhh," The blonde guy tried to come up with a counterpoint but couldn't.
"Just sayin'," I commented turning to face Clarke and Bellamy.
"How long until they figure out where he is?" Clarke asked in a rising tone. "And what happens when they do? I mean, when they come looking for him? They will Bellamy."
"Relax princess," Bellamy said confidently. "No one saw us take him. He was chained up in that cave the entire time. And thanks to the storm, we didn't see a soul on the way back."
Lightning struck again, even closer to the dropship this time. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, telling me I wasn't safe. Simultaneously something crashed inside the ship, clanging loudly.
"Ok," Bellamy said still trying to convince Clarke he was right. "In case you missed it, his people are already killing us." He showed her the page with the markings on it. "How many more of our people need to die until you realize we're fighting a war?"
"We're not soldier's Bellamy," Clarke argued. "Look at him. We can't win."
"You're right," Bellamy agreed. "We can't, if we don't fight." He annunciated his words slowly and clearly.
Clarke and Bellamy stared at each other for a moment, neither wishing to cede ground to the other. I personally was leaning towards Bellamy's side, but not entirely. I didn't think we should just go out looking for them, but it seemed foolish to not be prepared for conflict. As Jordan Peterson said, 'Stand up straight with your shoulders back'. In other words, be prepared for conflict, because conflict is going to find you whether you like it or not.
"Clarke he's seizing!" Raven's voice called out from the bottom floor.
"On my way," Clarke leapt down the ladder without hesitation.
Bellamy closed the hatch behind Clarke after she disappeared. He obviously didn't want anyone coming up to interrupt him.
I could hear shouting as Clarke and Raven tried to help Finn, but, with no visual to put to the incomprehensible sounds, I had no idea what was going on down there.
Bellamy roughed up Lincoln a little more. He had abandoned my soft tissues only tactic in favor of striking wildly. Just minutes later I heard more commotion downstairs.
"They locked the hatch," A voice, that I thought belonged to Octavia said.
Someone started banging on the bottom of the hatch. Bellamy turned to look at the hatch obviously frustrated. Miller meanwhile removed the blockage over the hatch and opened it for Clarke.
"Get out of my way Miller," Clarke ordered angrily as she climbed up through the hole for the second time in five minutes.
She walked straight up to Lincoln determination in her eyes. She held the knife that had been in Finn just a short time ago. For a moment I thought Finn had died and she was going to kill Lincoln in retribution.
"What's on this?" She asked stopping and holding the knife up in front of Lincoln's eyes.
"What are you talking about?" Bellamy questioned Clarke.
"He poisoned the blade," Clarke answered. "All this time he knew Finn was going to die no matter what we did. What is it?" She was getting angry now. Moving closer Clarke continued, "Is there an antidote?"
"Clarke, he doesn't understand you," Octavia insisted.
"Vials," Bellamy remembered suddenly.
"Does he understand?" I questioned myself softly.
I had seen people who don't speak English communicate with English speakers. Generally, they try to figure out what's being said. Lincoln was a special case considering that he was probably acting intentionally fortuitous. Even still, wouldn't he react a little bit? Unless he was a sociopath, he would have some reaction to a raised tone in another language. That left only one answer to the question, 'does he understand?'
"He has to understand," I said softly. "It wouldn't make sense if he didn't. No one can be that unresponsive to words they don't understand. He's pretendin' he doesn't speak English."
"It's got to be here," Bellamy said desperately searching through the small box.
Clarke tossed the poisoned knife aside and took the box from Bellamy.
"You'd have to be stupid to have a poison around this long and not have an antidote," Clarke commented, but at this point the conversation was just noise. I was too busy connecting dots in my head.
Octavia had insisted that Lincoln was protecting her. I couldn't remember if this was true or not, since all my previous knowledge of the hundred was limited to putting names to faces. What I did know is that Octavia insisted that Lincoln was keeping her alive. She could have misunderstood his actions, but was that likely?
Experience told me that generally people can know who's on their side. Not consciously perhaps, subconsciously though, where primal evolutionary instincts ruled the brain, threats were identified and assessed automatically. Our brains had developed over thousands of years to keep us alive. Now we could live without even noticing the survivor part of the brain, and it was easy to discount.
I trusted Octavia on that matter. The only remaining question was how to utilize my newfound knowledge.
"Which one?" Clarke asked.
"Answer the question," Bellamy backed her up.
"Show us please," Octavia begged Lincoln.
An idea popped into my brain, one that I was sure could get me in trouble, but Finn's life was on the line. I tried to get Octavia's attention.
"Which one?" Clarke yelled. "Our friend is dying down there, and you can stop that" Always appealing to people's humanity.
Lincoln remained stoic. I slammed my feet on the ground trying to draw Octavia's attention nonverbally. If I said anything out loud about what I was thinking, Bellamy would have his mob hunt me down and kill me.
"I'll get him to talk," Bellamy insisted walking towards Lincoln.
"Bellamy no," Octavia grabbed her brother by the arm, trying to hold him back.
"He wants Finn to die," Bellamy said. "Why can't you see that?"
Silence held for a moment and Bellamy looked to Lincoln, "Do you want him to live or not?"
"Clarke you even said it yourself," Octavia pleaded. "This is not who we are. He was protecting me. He saved my life."
"We're talking about Finn's life," Bellamy reminded her.
"Do it," Clarke gave Bellamy the okay.
I stood and walked over to where the knife lay on the ground. I picked it up surreptitiously while everyone watched Bellamy preparing to use a knife on Lincoln. Octavia watched Lincoln in horror and I apprehensively came closer to her side.
If I was going to do this, I would lose trust. The one hundred could banish me, like they had Murphy. I would lose my companions and my friends. If I didn't act Finn would likely die.
It was a hell of a moral dilemma, just like the problem of who to save on the train track. I wondered if I could tell Octavia to pick up the knife and threaten to kill herself. I wasn't a fan of that though, that required her to make a choice, and me to put the weight of the issue on her. As morally flexible as I could be, I wasn't willing to do that. If I did this, I was going to take responsibility for my actions.
"You're going to show us the antidote or you're going to wish you had," Bellamy threatened.
Lincoln's shirt was now off revealing his cut body and tattoos. He did look pretty badass, I had to admit that.
"Octavia," I whispered as I came closer. Maybe I could give her some warning of what was to come.
Her attention was rapt on Lincoln as Bellamy looked to Clarke. She nodded signaling to Bellamy that he should give Lincoln hell until he talked. Bellamy slapped Lincoln with the harness from one of the dropship seats. The heavy buckle made for an excellent beating tool.
"Octavia," I whispered again, now standing next to her.
She turned towards me opening her mouth to say something, but I shut her down with a finger on her lips.
"I ain't gonna hurt ya," I promised.
Octavia made a confused sound as I quickly grabbed her in a headlock and held Lincoln's knife to her throat. Then she screamed.
"If he calls my bluff, I'm lettin' ya go," I said trying to reassure her. "I swear." I hoped she heard me.
Everyone turned to the sound of the scream. Their faces swapped from fear to shock at the sight of me holding a knife to Octavia's neck.
"What the hell are you doing Maynard?!" Bellamy asked enraged. He stepped closer to me holding the strap like he was going to beat me with it.
Pandemonium raged around me as I was unable to get a word in. I couldn't break character, no matter how disgusted I was with my actions. If I showed any sign of hesitation, Lincoln would know I was lying, and Finn would die.
"Quiet!" I shouted above the din.
The voices shut down immediately, all except Bellamy's.
"Let her go Maynard or I swear I'll kill you," Bellamy threatened.
With my back up against the cold metal wall I could be sure no one would attack from behind. I felt slightly more secure.
"Put the harness down Bellamy," I said calmly keeping the knife on Octavia's throat.
"Maynard?" The dark-haired girl questioned. "What's going on?" She was angry and resisting me in every way she could, but more than that she was scared.
"May stop this now," Clarke ordered softer, but not weakly.
"Everybody quiet," I insisted. "This ain't about you. Bellamy put that down and this'll all work out fine."
I turned my eyes to Lincoln as I heard the sound of the harness clattering to the floor.
"It's about you," I said. "What's yer name? Answer or the girl dies." My voice was cold and dark. I wanted to be absolutely sure he believed me. Unfortunately, though nobody else seemed to believe me either.
After a long time, he answered, "Lincoln," he said, his voice raspy.
"Okay Lincoln," I continued. "Which vial's the antidote?" I kept the knife against Octavia's throat.
Everyone in the room was now completely silent. It was all down to acting now. I couldn't slip up, and if I did, Finn would die. I couldn't let that happen.
Lincoln said nothing for a time as he attempted to psychoanalyze me. He wanted to know if I was the real deal. Lincoln searched my eyes and posture for any sign of weakness. It was truly as psychological battle now. It was like a poker game. I had just gone all in, and now Lincoln had to decide whether or not to call my bluff.
If he lied about which vial the antidote was in that could be a problem. That left my options limited, as far as I could tell, to two. One: Wait for him to answer and hope he told the truth. Two: Give him an incentive to be honest.
Obviously, he didn't want Octavia to die. Lincoln had spoken to us for the first time. He had spoke when Octavia was threatened. I felt sure. I know what I had to do, no matter the cost.
I drew the blade lightly against Octavia's arm closest to me. She was tightly gripping my arm that had her in a headlock. Blood ran down her arm, but I showed no emotion. Couldn't show him a tell at this stage.
"Which vial?" I asked again. "Or they both die."
"You're fucking dead," Bellamy said. I believed him when he said it too.
"May," Clarke's voice rose in pitch as she placed her hands over her mouth in shock.
There was a brief moment of silence where nothing was said.
"The far left," Lincoln answered.
"You lyin'?" I asked wanting to be sure.
"No," Lincoln answered hatred in his eyes. He was telling the truth. I was sure.
I dropped the knife.
It clattered to the floor as Octavia stumbled forward away from me rubbing her neck. She turned back to face me hair flying around her head.
"Take the antidote," I told her. Then I turned to Clarke, "Give it to Finn. He'll be fine. There's no way Lincoln's lyin'."
I raised my hands in a gesture of surrender while Octavia rushed over to Clarke. She gave Octavia a small sip of the antidote and poured some on her arm. There was enough left for Finn to survive, hopefully. If there wasn't then this had all been for nothing.
"I won't fight," I spoke to Bellamy. "But I want ya to know. I wasn't gonna kill her."
"You cut my sister with a poisoned knife," Bellamy said lowly and dangerously.
"Lincoln was protectin' Octavia," I returned logically. "I was sure. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have done anythin' at all."
Bellamy glowered at me. He breathed heavily, like a bull about to charge.
"How could you know that?" Clarke asked.
"Go give that to Finn," I ordered. "Stop wastin' time here with me."
Clarke gave me a dangerous look that said, 'We'll talk later, and the words won't be kind.' She stalked off down the ladder with the antidote in hand. I sighed heavily. At least I had succeeded. If Finn's life was saved, this was all worth it.
"Bellamy," I spoke again turning to face the man. "I had to lie to him or he wouldn'tve given up the antidote. If it helps, I warned her about what I was going to do."
"If it helps," Bellamy scoffed. He turned his back on me laughing mirthlessly. "Well you know what Maynard," Bellamy practically spat the name. "It doesn't fucking help!" He whirled around screaming at me with his full wrath.
Fortunately, though he hadn't taken a swing at me yet. That was better than I had expected.
"Give me some space," Bellamy said to the group. "I need to hash this out."
Miller and the blonde guy left without a word. They looked like they couldn't get out fast enough.
"Bellamy…" Octavia trailed off finding no words to say.
"You too O," Bellamy said.
Octavia grumbled something incomprehensible and then followed the others down the hatch. Bellamy closed it after her and we were all alone. Well mostly, Lincoln was still chained up on the other side of the room watching us.
I stayed silent, not wanting to say something that could be misconstrued. In his volatile state, Bellamy would be looking to be offended. The best way for me to counteract this was silence. The less I say, the less he's offended, and the quicker he's burnt out.
"You could've killed her," Bellamy said. "You risked my sister's life," He pointed at his chest. "On a bluff!?"
I said nothing, sticking to my strategy of hopefully weathering the Bellamy storm.
"Say something," Bellamy ordered.
I wasn't sure what the right choice of words was. 'I'm sorry' would likely be useless. I don't think Bellamy would care for my apologies. While, being straight up logical about my decision would be equally useless. Bellamy wouldn't understand any logical thought right now.
"Finn's life was on the line," I decided on. It was fairly neutral, but I didn't really have a good response to Bellamy's anger.
"So, you risked Octavia's life so that you could save Finn's?" Bellamy asked emotionally.
"No," I returned. "I wouldn't have killed her."
"You wouldn't have killed her," Bellamy mocked. "How do I know that? And assuming you wouldn't have, how did you know he would give you the antidote?" Bellamy pointed at Lincoln.
"I threatened her life and Lincoln spoke to me," I explained slowly. "I knew he cared because he answered me. You were beatin' him within an inch of his life earlier, and what'd he say? Jack shit."
"How do you know he wouldn't have talked?" Bellamy asked still furious. "He might've said which one was the antidote."
"Yeah after Finn was already dead," I shot back getting a little emotional.
"So, you did put my sister's life on the line to rescue Finn's," Bellamy came back to his central argument.
"No," I answered again trying to stay calm. "If he hadn't said anythin' when the knife was on her throat then I would've dropped it and left her alone."
"Yeah?" Bellamy questioned hotly.
"Yeah," I returned coldly. "What reason did I have to kill her?"
"I don't know," Bellamy said with no sense of reason at all. "Maybe you're just a sick fuck that like's killing people like Wells said."
I glared at Bellamy, "That's low," I said. "Everythin' I just did was an act, nothin' more than a charade to trick him," I pointed at Lincoln. "Into givin' us the vial."
I approached Bellamy in the center of the floor. He had calmed down some it seemed, but he wasn't willing to meet my eyes.
"I knew he could understand us," I explained. "He was too stoic. If he was confused, then I would believe that he didn't understand what we were saying. But he was intentionally masking his reactions. It was only logical to assume that he was playing that he didn't understand."
Bellamy said nothing.
"Octavia said she thought Lincoln was protectin' her," I continued explaining my thought process. "Why would she lie? She had no reason to. She couldn'tve been misguided either, because that part of the brain, the part ya don't even notice but use all the time. The lizard brain. That part is rarely wrong about the assumptions it makes. It can recognize fakes and lies better than yer conscious mind can. I trusted Octavia's judgement and made a call."
Bellamy chuckled maliciously. He shook his head, and I wondered if I could ever bring him around to my side.
"You based all this," Bellamy gestured around like we could see the events that had just transpired. "You risked my sister's life on a guess?"
"Yes," I answered honestly. "But I was right. No one died."
"So what if you were right?" Bellamy questioned. "You put lives in danger because you thought you were smarter than everyone else."
"No," I said. "I just figured it out first. We didn't have time for me to sit around and talk you through the plan. Even if I had Lincoln wouldn'tve believed I was serious."
"But you didn't trust us to try," Bellamy said. "You kept your plan a secret and you threatened my sister's life."
"I didn't really have a plan anyway," I returned. "All I knew was that Lincoln would talk if Octavia was in danger. Somehow I had to put her in danger and make it believable."
"Then you cut her with the poisoned knife," Bellamy pointed out his anger flickering now rather than blazing.
"He could've lied about the vial," I said. "Lincoln was questionin' whether or not I was actually gonna kill Octavia. I had to be sure he would tell the truth."
"That doesn't give you the right to threaten people's lives," Bellamy said now feeling pain and betrayal in place of anger.
"No, it doesn't," I agreed.
Silence reigned for a time. I was willing to let Bellamy think this through at this stage. He was well past using violence now, which was good. Now he had to decide what to do.
"I thought I could trust you," Bellamy said on the verge of tears. "I thought you were my friend."
"I-" My voice broke. "I almost didn't do it." Bellamy's eyes snapped back to mine glistening. "I knew I'd lose everyone's trust. I had to do it though. Finn was gonna die."
The sight of two grown men crying together in my past life would have made me laugh. I didn't cry. I never cried. Now here I was not only crying but crying with a man who I thought wouldn't cry either.
"Well," Bellamy sniffed wiping his eyes. "You were right. You lost our trust. Especially mine."
He walked past me towards the hatch. I hung my head feeling horribly about myself for pretty much the first time ever.
"Bellamy," I said. He stopped but didn't turn back. "I'm sorry."
He said nothing at first. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, Bellamy turned partially to face me.
"I'm going to lock you up here with Lincoln," Bellamy said. "I'll send someone up to let you out when I'm ready. That'll be punishment enough."
He reopened the hatch and wiped his eyes vigorously, not wanting to show that he had been crying. He shook himself and slowly climbed down the ladder closing the hatch behind him. I heard the clunk of the lock bolting into place.
I walked over to the wall on my left. I placed my hand on the wall and held myself up for a moment. I really felt like I was about to fall down from this weight on my shoulders. I had never felt so bad in my life. I generally tried to make good decisions, but when I didn't, I owned my decisions not allowing myself to feel sorry. I had fucked up, and now I was going to do better. This was a whole different animal though.
I had never done something so reprehensible before. Knowing I was capable of such terrible things was a truly terrifying thought. And I had done this to a friend, someone close to me. I knew Finn would've died if I hadn't acted, but it didn't make the pain any better.
I slid down the wall and sat heavily on the ground. I hung one arm over a propped-up leg and splayed the other leg out. I placed my free hand over my face rubbing up and down in a useless attempt to comfort myself.
"Shit," I swore.
That's the end of this one.
I thought we needed some more Maynard, Bellamy interaction this chapter, and well, let's just say I didn't expect it to end up like this for at least the first half of the chapter. Overall, though, I think this is one of my best chapters, and I love how it turned out. Finally giving Maynard some personal conflict to deal with.
Anyway hope you liked it.