Chapter 6 - You Think That I Don't Notice All The Songs You Sing Underneath Your Breath


Clarke came to over the shoulder of someone she probably didn't know, if the bag over her head and the rope chafing against her skin told her anything. She could hear several more sets of feet trudging along next to the person who was currently carrying her. The dull spikes of his clothing digging in the soft flesh of her stomach. When the person carrying her took a large step over some obstacle, she let out a soft grunt when her own body weight worked against her and pressed her harder on to the metal clad shoulder.

At the sound of her wakefulness the grounder dropped her unceremoniously on the ground before yanking her back to her feet by the rope that bound her hands together. Clarke was barely able to keep from falling forward as her feet ran underneath her to try and keep her upright.

Staggering slightly as she tried to get her bearings bumping into a warm body next to her. Whoever it was grasped her elbow. The awkward hold with two hands could only mean that they were similarly bound. Clarke whispered in the direction of the other person, hoping not to draw attention to herself. "Finn?"

He swiped his thumb over the fabric of her arm in conformation she felt him lean towards her as he whispered back to her. "We walked for about three miles after crossing a creek. Another two or so before we exited the forest."

The sound of their foot falls changed as the floor beneath them became harder. Not moments after the change in sound were, they pushed down to their knees and the bags ripped off their head. Clarke blinked rapidly trying to refocus her eyes to the brightness of the room they found themselves in.

"Finn, I don't think that matters now." She looked over to meet his eyes. "We aren't blindfolded anymore. They are probably going to kill us."

He stared at her; his gaze tracing her face tenderly. The sound of two new sets of boots came striding into the room pulling both of their eyes to the newcomer as they walked in. One stopped in front of them as the other carrying a young girl who was struggling to breath walked over to the table in front of them. The one who has stopped in front of them pulled off her hood, revealing a familiar face.

"Anya?" Clarke's eyes narrowed and her voice hardened. "What do you want from us?"

The unimpressed look was ever present as she pointed to the young blonde on the table. "Help her. If she dies, he dies."

Clarke turned her terrified eyes towards the young girl again. Her breath, shallowing more and more as the seconds ticked by. From the corner of her eye she saw Anya's face softened as she looked at the girl. "Her name is Tris."

Clarke moved closer to the young girl holding her bound hands out to the grounders. The tall man with the wool mask covering his face. When Anya nodded, he cut ties. Clarke's hand fluttered over the girl as her eyes roved the room for anything, she could use to help ease the girls suffering. "I can't do this. I don't have any equipment."

As if expecting her denial Anya moved closer. "We'll provide you with what we can."

"I don't understand." Clarke turned on Anya, "Why do you think I can save her?"

Before Anya could respond, Finn's surprised voice filtered to her ears. "Lincoln told her."

"Yes." Anya nodded as she stepped to the other side of the table running her fingers tenderly down Tris' arm. Her hawk eyes flipping up to meet Clarke's. "Our healer is gone. There's nothing we can do for her. For his sake, I hope you can."

Finn's voice softened as he encouraged her. Though when she met his eyes, they were still terrified. The tremble in his still bound hands matched hers with equal fervor.

Nodding to herself, she pulled in a deep breath to steady her racing heart. "How did she get hurt?"

The ice in Anya's voice sliced open Clark's heart. "She was on the bridge when your bomb exploded. You did this to her." Anya turned to leave with one last passing look at her men. "Get her what she needs."

Finn stepped up beside Clarke, his voice frantic. "She's getting worse."

"I know," She looked at him, the desperation dripping from her eyes. "Help me lift her up. Oh, God, okay, here we go."

Clarke and Finn rolled the young girl on her side. She quickly dropped her head to the girl's chest. The quiet, hollow sound failed to muffle the despondent thud of her heart that struggled to keep her blood moving. "She's not moving any air on the left. There's fluid pressing on her lungs."

Finn's voice echoed through her skull. "I don't see an entry wound."

Pulling back from Tris, Clarke had no idea how she was going to fix this. "No. It wasn't shrapnel. It was trauma. The force of the explosion, it hit her in the chest." Clarke turned towards Finn; eyes wide. "She's drowning in her own blood. She can't breathe. I have to relieve the pressure."

Clarke looked around frantically as she called out to the rest of the room. "I need a small tube, something rigid the size of my finger." Holding up her little finger for reference to the men that surrounded her.

The younger of the dark hair men, pulled a small tube off one of his many odd accessories handing it to her with only a mumbled "Here." Finn thanked him, retrieving it from the grounder before stepping up to Clarke's side again.

Clarke mumbled to herself as she recounted her mother's words in her mind. "Fifth intercostal space." Her fingers counting the dips in her ribs. "This better work."

Using the small pocketknife, she had been given by one of the various men that surrounded her, Clarke sliced through the layers of skin holding the blood in, trapping Tris's lung. "You're okay."

The blood spurted out quickly as Clarke inserted the tube, before slowing down to a quiet trickle. Right as Clarke was praising her young patient for drawing in the deepest breath Clarke had heard from her yet, Anya returned.

Anya rushed forward pulling Clarke away from Tris, jostling the tube that was supporting her continued ability to breathe. "What have you done?"

The hand on Clarke's elbow gripped hard and the nails dug into her arm, the jacket that was covering her arms did little to keep the sting of pain away. "You don't understand. She couldn't breathe."

Anya shoved Clarke to the ground which sent a ripple of tension through the room as Finn leapt towards her with a shout for them to back off. Finn, gripped Clarke far more gently then she had been since this morning. "What do we do now, Princess?"

Moving over to the side away from Tris she dropped her voice in hopes that only Finn would be paying attention to her words. "She's breathing a little better, but even if we can save her, what happens then?"

Finn's cheeky grin flashed in her direction. "Well, then maybe we don't die today."

Clarke was about to respond to Finn before Anya's voice called out that Tris was running hot. Clarke's hand went to the artery in her neck counting the beats in her head. It was still too weak, and her face was flushed with sweat pooling at her hair line. Clarke ran her fingers gently along her face and neck, brushing the strands that were sticking to her face, off. In her examination she noticed raised lumps of scar tissue on the skin of her shoulder, hoping that none of them were the cause of infection she moved on. "Her heart rate is way up. She's probably septic."

Anya moved around to the other side of the table. Her blank face revealed none of the concern that her eyes held. "What does that mean?"

Clarke met her eyes with matching concern before she dropped them back down to Tris. "It means her blood is poisoned."

The clink of glass containers on a metal tray sounded from behind her, drawing her attention back to Finn who was holding up one of the containers to the grounder closest to him. "What about this stuff?"

His gruff voice spit out. "That slows bleeding."

Clarke shook her head. "Coagulant. No."

Finn's voice lanced her heart with its frantic edge, even though she could tell he was trying to stay calm for her. "I don't see any antibiotics. Maybe that lake seaweed?"

The unfair bite of anger dug through her stomach. "She doesn't need seaweed." Turning on Anya, Clarke strode back over to the table to growl at her. "She needs real medicine. How could you send a little girl into battle? What is wrong with you people?"

Anya drew back in surprise at the fire in Clarke's voice being directed at her. "She was with me. She was my second. It's how we train them to be warriors."

Clarke's despondent laugh trickled out of her. She couldn't believe her ears. That wasn't fair to those kids and that would never help her or her people. "So, the killing can just go on and on."

Anya leaned back towards Clarke, "you put the bomb on the bridge. You did this to her."

Tris coughed out a weak breath. How could they fix this? Clarke ran through everything she'd been taught on the Ark. ignoring the violent twinge her insides gave at the sound of her mother's voice in her memories. Her eyes lit up as her mind settled on one of her earliest lessons about disease processes. "She needs clean blood."

Finn looked at her in surprise. "Transfusion?"

She nodded to him, taking stock of what meager supplies she had. Nothing here was going to be helpful to them. "Okay. There's no tubing. So, we need a syringe, the biggest one you can find, and I need a cannula. It's like a hollow needle."

The grounders quickly jumped into action looking for anything that would meet the descriptions Clarke had just spit out. They returned just as quickly with a dirty syringe and a hard-plastic straw that she hoped would lock into the syringe well enough to get a solid suction.

Finn ran the straw over the ground to grind it down to a point. After getting it as close to needle shape as he could he held it up for Clarke's inspection. When she nodded her approval, he dumped the bleach over it to clear it from as many contagions as possible. Clarke grabbed it from him, pulling the plunger a couple times to test the suction.

Clarke moved towards Anya. "Okay. I'm gonna need your blood."

Anya yanked her arm away from Clarke's outstretched hands. "No."

Frustrated Clarke ground out how Anya would be her best match because they were from the same tribe. When Finn took in the obstinate look on her face, he gripped Clarke's elbow again. "Clarke, if you're gonna do something, you have to do it now. Just use mine."

She took a brief second to meet Finn's eyes before pushing up the sleeve of his jacket and inserting the needle into the vein. She handed him the syringe to pull up the blood while she turned back to the girl. "I can't find a vein. She's clamping down. She's lost too much blood."

Her frantic search for a usable vein kept her from noticing that Tris was no longer breathing until Clarke heard the hard edge of Finn's voice calling her name. When the realization that Tris was gone finally hit her, she backed away from the table towards Finn. Her eyes not leaving Anya's until she gave the command for the grounder behind them to take Finn and kill him.

Heart jumping to her throat, Clarke pleaded with Anya. "No. No! Please! No! I did everything I could. Please!" The men converged on them. One grabbing Finn and pulling him away and the other standing firm against Clarke's attempts to get around him back to Finn. Clarke called after them begging them to let him go. The rest of the grounders followed Anya out of the room with Tris's body leaving Clarke alone with one man.

His dark eyes masked by the face paint studied her before he spoke. "Anya will take no pleasure in your friend's death. Prove your worth, and you'll be welcome here."

Turning away from him Clarke braced herself on the table that had held the young girl. Her fingers pulling the knife closer to her. Hoping to distract him from what her fingers were doing until she could slip the knife into the palm of her hand, fully concealing it, she asked. "Why would you want me? I couldn't save Tris."

He seemed to think her question over before responding in what seemed an honest manner. "We told you. Our healer is gone."

Finally, fully palming the knife she turned back to him. "Will I be able to go back to see them my friends, my home?"

"Tomorrow there'll be nothing to go back to." At his words, Clarke's heart took off into a frantic pace. She could not wait this one out. She just needed to distract this man a few more moments while she tried to keep her mind clear enough to figure out an escape route.

Her mind got stuck on the marks on the little girls' shoulder, she had noticed them on Lincoln when the arrow that pierced his shoulder had pulled his shirt down enough for her to catch a glimpse. Knowing that her brain wouldn't move forward until she had the answer she asked. "Those marks on her shoulder, what were they? Lincoln has them, too."

The man in front of her puffed his chest out with pride. "Each scar marks a kill in combat."

This staggered Clarke, "Five kills? She was a little girl."

His voice turned to disgust at the shock in hers. "She was brave."

"And how many do you have?" She watched him pull the collar of his shirt down revealing row after row of knotted tissue on his shoulder and chest. "That's a lot."

He puffed up more at her observation. "And half were after I hurt my knee."

Clarke's mind whorled. If she kicked him in the bad knee, he had just offered up then she could get his hands away from his knives and hopefully slow his reaction time enough for her to get in close enough to nick an artery in his neck. She dropped her eyes with what she hoped was a resigned look before swiftly kicking out the grounders knee. With enough force to hopefully have torn a tendon or worse, but definitely with enough force to cause a great deal of pain to him.

The grounder bent forward as if to grasp at his knee when Clarke lunged forward and drug the knife across the delicate flesh of his neck. The pressure of the blood in his artery forced a spray of blood to splash over Clarke's face and clothes. She brought her hand up to cover his nose and mouth as he started to struggle. She tried to ignore the sickening feel of his hot blood slicking her fingers as she shushed him. With each thrum of his heart the blood rapidly spilled out of him. After a few seconds, each sluggish heartbeat pushed less and less blood out. Finally, his eyes started to fall closed and in less than 30 seconds from when she had made her move, it was over.

Clarke gave herself a few more seconds to look at the man who she had killed, he had been trying to be nice to her in his own way. She hadn't had a choice if she wanted to save her friends but the stutter in her heart didn't help to push away the guilt she felt.

Turning away from the man she took off out of the building hoping that she could make it back to camp with enough time to get her people to safety. Clarke ran until her chest heaved, unable to keep up with the pace she was setting. Her vision started to spot, and she knew she'd have to stop to catch her breath soon, so she didn't pass out. She told herself she would only go a little bit further before she stopped, when her feet were ripped out from underneath her. The rapid flood of oxygen deficient blood to her brain when she was strung up, caused Clarke to pass out.

When Clarke woke up, she was surrounded by grounders, hands bound again. She rose up to her knees staring down Anya who was quietly warming her hands over a small fire. The horses just outside of the firelight gave a skittish squeal when a hooked nose man appeared out of the woods, startling Anya's men.

"Your left flank is vulnerable." His sharp eyes sunk into Anya's as he jumped down to be level with her.

"My archers are in the trees with orders to shoot anyone hostile. You're not hostile are you Tristan?" The almost gentle ribbing came from Anya with a hint of irritation. He smirked at her before turning to stare at Clarke.

The sneer on his face, pulled his lips tight. "This is who's beating you?"

Looking up at him in defiance, Clarke sneered back at him. "And who are you?"

He spit at her feet as he crouched down in front of her. Lowering his hostile voice, he said, "I'm the man sent to slaughter your people. You, specifically."

Clarke eye his hand creeping towards his side, when Anya's outraged voice caught both of their attentions. "The commander sent you?"

He grunted at her, standing up and turning back towards her. "Your unit is mine now. My rangers are at the river and they are hungry. Go feed them. We march on the invaders' camp at first light. I'll make quick work of what you failed to do. Starting with this one."

Before Tristan could make a move to turn back toward Clarke, one of Anya's warriors drew their attention to a fire off in the distance. According to Anya and Tristan's frantic words it was a signal fire that there were reapers in the area. Anya had them light a beacon that Clarke hadn't noticed before to let other group know that they'd seen the warning. Anya told Tristan that she would send her fastest rider to warn the commander.

"There is no time Anya." Tristan turned to the new man who'd just stepped into the light. "Kill the prisoner then get to the river."

From across the fire where Anya was tucking away more weapons, Anya looked up long enough to ask if Finn was dead. When the grounder nodded in the affirmative, Clarke's breath was ripped out of her. The grounder nodded at whatever instructions were issued but Clarke couldn't tell what those were over the sound of her harsh breathing.

The masked warrior yanked the rope around her arms so hard that Clarke was pulled up off the ground, over her feet, only to fall back to the ground hitting her head against the hard-packed ground. As she was drug away from the fire, her vision flickered in and out of focus. The man must have gotten tired of pulling her at some point because she was draped over the back of a horse before the man mounted up behind her.

When her eyes finally focused again, they were riding into the glow of the signal fire she'd seen in the distant from her place near Anya. He pulled the horse up to a quick stop before dismounting and pulling her down. He pulled a knife out of a sheath at his side, brandishing it in her direction. She stepped back only for him to grab her hands and yank them back towards him. She stopped struggling when he slipped the knife in the knots of the rope by her wrists. She looked up at him in confusion before a flash of movement behind his shoulder caught her eye.

Pulling the binds from her hands she watched the person get closer before realizing it was Finn. In a flash of movement, she took off around the stoic warrior to run into Finn's arms. "Oh, my God, Finn. I don't understand how -"

He tenderly brushed Clarke's hair away from her face. "Lincoln saved my life. He killed one of his own people to do it."

Clarke looked back just as Lincoln pulled his mask off, pulling away from Finn's arms. His hand fell to her lower back following her movements with a gentle press of his hand. Clarke met Finn's eyes over her shoulder briefly before turning her eyes back to Lincoln. "Signal fire? That was you?"

He nodded before his quiet voice said. "We needed a distraction."

Finn's excited voice sounded closer to Clarke's ear than she had been expecting. "I'd say it worked."

The three of them turned to look back across the distance Clarke and Lincoln had just traversed, just in time to see fire get doused, sending a stream of smoky steam up in the air behind it. Lincoln inhaled sharply. "Not well enough."

When Finn questioned what that meant Lincoln's tense eyes cut back towards Clarke. "It means Anya knows Clarke is not dead."

He hurried back over to the horse that had been standing patiently on the edge of their clearing. He turned the horse in the opposite direction before sending it off on the path in front of him with a quick swat to its hind end. "We need to hurry. Let's hope they follow the horse."

Clarke watched him, knowing that Anya was not going to be stupid enough to follow the tracks of the horse that now carried no passengers. "What do we do now?"

Strapping the last weapon, he'd pulled from the horse's tack to his back he turned to appraise her. "Now we run. Come on. It's right up here."

Lincoln turned and ran without a backward glance spared for Finn or her. He darted around trees as Clarke and Finn struggled to keep him in their field of vision. He finally stopped at a narrow opening just barely big enough for him to squeeze his bulky frame through.

"What is it?" Finn asked as he heaved, gasping breaths through his teeth.

Barely winded, though loaded with tension Lincoln replied, "Someplace they won't follow."

Finally catching her breath, she asked where it led.

"Everywhere." Lincoln looked over his shoulder at the sound of rustling that was getting closer. "There's a tunnel to your camp. If we make it through, we should get there before Tristan. Go. Go!"

He shoved her and Finn through the opening and just as they started running Clarke heard the whoosh of an arrow echo off the tunnel walls before a thick sound of it meeting flesh and Lincoln's grunt of pain. She slowed down wanting to check on him, but he just waved her forward until they rounded a corner and could no longer see the opening they'd just come through.

"You were right. They didn't follow us." Finn noted.

"Reapers use these tunnels." Lincoln grunted. "Tristan wouldn't risk running into them."

Finn came to a full stop to turn and look at tanned man who'd just saved their lives. "What the hell's a reaper?"

A shudder ran through Lincoln. "Pray you never find out. We have to keep moving." He turned to leave, and a hand dropped to his side.

Clarke's eyes turned to start at the man who wanted to press forward. Holding up her hand to stop him in his tracks. "Let me look at that before we move again."

He shook his head. "I've fought battles with worse wounds than this."

He started to move forward again until Clarke laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. Lowering her voice to be as soothing as she could make it. "We're not in a battle right now."

His denial of safety just piqued her interest in why he was helping them more. When she questioned it he stood resolute in his silence. "Fine. Don't tell us. Give me your knife."

She turned to Finn handing him the blade and taking the torch that Lincoln had been carrying and shoving that in Finn's other hand she directed him to heat the blade. Turning back to the injured man in front of her she cautioned that he may want something to bite down on while she removed the arrow.

Lincoln scoffed at her. "You people are so soft. If you don't learn to be more-" She cut off whatever he was going to say by shoving the arrow the rest of the way through his side, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. Snapping the head of the arrow off she pulled the shaft back out through the entry hole.

He stared down at Clarke with the same soft eyes she'd looked into on the bridge where they failed to make peace. "What my people are doing to yours is wrong." He grabbed the cherry red blade from Finn's outstretched hand pressing it to the hole in the front side of his abdomen with a quiet hiss before handing it back to Clarke with a nod for her to do the entry wound.

The three of them hurried through the tunnels a quickly as they could, Lincoln checking the map in his book periodically. She hoped the twist and turns he followed was leading them closer to their people. After at least an hour of traveling through the dark tunnels Lincoln stopped their forward progress with a press of his finger to his lips.

"Reapers," he whispered when the sound of grunting carried towards Clarke's ears.

Finn's shocked whisper back was loud compared to the soft voice Lincoln had used. "This can't be the only way. Check the map."

A grave face met her eyes as he answered. "If you want to get home before Tristan slaughters your people, this is the only way."

They moved silently towards the mouth of the tunnel they needed to take, peering over Lincoln's shoulder she saw carts parked on a track. The shriek of person met her ears at Finn pointed out the carts were filled with human bodies. Lincoln's solemn eyes locked with hers when she asked what the hell was going on, but he did not deign to give the obvious answer.

He did however shove the map in her hands telling them that the tunnel off to the right of where the reapers stood gathered would lead them to the woods near their camp. When Finn questioned what he was going to do Lincoln told them he was going to save them one more time. "I'm gonna lead them away. Wait until they follow me, then run."

Clarke laid her hand on his shoulder as he started to rise from his crouch. "Wait a second. If they catch you, they'll kill you."

He shrugged her hand off his shoulder. "Worry about yourselves. Most of Tristan's rangers will be at your gate by daybreak, but he'll send riders ahead, scouts. All of you have to be gone before they arrive."

"Gone," she asked, her voice steadier than she thought it would be. "Where are we supposed to go?"

His eyes appraised her for a moment. "In my book, there's a map. Chart course to the eastern sea. There's a clan there, led by a woman called Luna, a friend. Tell her I sent you."

They thanked him as he took off to get the reapers attention. Turning tail as soon as they looked in his direction, Lincoln sprinted from their view. One remained behind to guard their bounty it seemed, so Clarke and Finn slunk around close to the walls of the tunnel. Her eyes were glued to the bodies in the cart until one of, what she had thought was a dead body turned its eyes to meet hers.

Her gasp brought the attention of the reaper to them. Grunting, it scurried in their direction, only to fall upon Finn. The disfigured form in front of them barely looked human as it strangled Finn. His hand reached out to grasp a rock, Finn brought it down upon the reaper's skull. The sharp thunk of the rock meeting thick bone pulled Clarke's eyes away from the cart. The second hit from Finn caved the skull in causing blood to seep from the reapers nose on to Finn's jacket before the reaper sunk down, limp on top of Finn.

Finn shoved the reaper aside before he grabbed her hand dragging Clarke's dazed barely focused body behind him. He tugged the book from Clarke's hands checking the map again. "This doesn't look right."

Clarke grabbed his hand, "What the hell was that back there?"

Her chest started heaving with a panic attack. Her eyes darted every which way until Finn's hands reached up to cup her cheeks. He softly called her name. She tried to slow her breathing but all that came out was a stuttered question about what they'd seen.

Once she was finally able to breathe again, she said. "I swear to God, the more we learn about this place, the less we know."

Finn's hands tenderly brushed her hair away from her eyes. His eyes making a slow drag from her eyes down to her lips. "I should have fought for you."

Shaking her head as best she could while his hands caged her face. She tipped her face down to stare at his chest. "Finn, don't."

His thumbs stroked her cheeks. "Clarke. I love you. I'm in love with you."

Clarke pulled away from him. His hazel eyes were wet with emotion. When she looked back into his eye tears were dripping down her face. "I... I can't. I'm sorry Finn, you broke my heart."

Before Finn could make a response there was a loud boom coming from the entrance of the tunnel, they were in. Their eyes met again; Clarke wiped at cheeks before they both started moving as quickly as they could.

Clarke and Finn ran back into camp as a chorus of kids cried out about their arrival. Clarke's eyes darted through the crowd looking for Wells or Murphy. The flash of blue eyes under a mop of dark hair caught her eyes. She jogged over to Murphy "Hey, we heard an explosion. What happened?"

He gripped her shoulder, with a grateful smile. "Scared kids, happened."

Before she could enquire any further, her arms were full of Jasper Jordan. He squeezed her tightly for a moment before her arms came up to circle his slim frame. A smile breaking across her face. "Thank God! Where have you been? Where's Monty?"

Clarke pulled back from the embrace. "Monty's gone?"

Finn reached out to touch her shoulder, grabbing the attention of the boys who surrounded their newly returned leader. "Clarke, we need to leave, now. All of us do. There's an army of grounders, unlike anything we've ever seen, coming for us right now. We need to pack what we can and run."

"Like hell we do. We knew this was coming." Murphy challenged; an irritated scowl stole over his face.

Wells turned to Murphy, "Murph, we're not prepared."

He whipped around to glare at Wells, "And they're not here yet, Chancellor. We still have time to get ready. Besides, where would we go? Where would we be safer than behind these walls?"

"There's an ocean to the east." Finn said. "Lincoln said the people there will help us."

"You expect us to trust a grounder?" Murphy's voice raised loud enough to draw the attention of the whole camp. "This is our home now. We built this from nothing with our bare hands! Our dead are buried behind that wall in this ground! Our ground! The grounders think they can take that away. They think that because we came from the sky, we don't belong here. But they're yet to realize one very important fact: We are on the ground now, and that means we are grounders!"

A cheer went up across the camp, the kids crying out with renewed enthusiasm. Murphy's voice rang out again. "Damn right! I say let them come!"

Clarke raised her voice to be heard over the crowd of cheering kids, reminiscent of the first day on the ground. "Murphy's right. If we leave, we may never find a place as safe as this. And God knows, in this world, we could be faced with something even worse tomorrow. But that doesn't change the simple fact that if we stay here, we will die tonight. So, pack your things. Just take what you can carry, now."

XXXXXXXXXX

Bellamy adjusted himself in the saddle as his horse swayed with its earth eating steps underneath him. They had less than 4 hours until they make their way into TonDC. Tristan's scouts should be almost to the camp of the sky people. They'd be dead before they knew what hit them.

He felt the guilt of having to exterminate a whole group of people, for doing nothing more than trying to survive. This Artemis with fair hair. They'd underestimated her because she was not from the Earth. He'd not do that again. Their meager amount of kids should be no match for their 300 warriors.

She must've run out tricks by now. No one has stood up to 300 of the Heda's men and survived.

It would all be over, come morning.

XXXXXXXXXX

A groaning came from the second floor as the kids scurried about trying to pack their things. Clarke was flagged down by one of the kids, who sent her up to check it out. Clarke found Raven on the ground clutching her stomach.

"What happened?" The sound of Finn's voice rang out from behind her.

Raven's pain filled eye looked over Clarke's shoulder to meet Finn's concerned face. "When the gunpowder exploded it set off one of the bullets sitting by it. The bullet shot me. It was an accident."

Clarke turned to Finn and asked her to get Raven down to the bottom floor of the drop ship so they could cauterize the wound and start moving. Raven screamed as Clarke pressed the heated metal against her skin. The smell of burnt flesh for the second time in less than 24 hours was almost enough to turn her stomach.

Breathing in sharply, Clarke said. "There, that should stop the external bleeding."

Raven's watery eyes turned up to Clarke's "We got lucky. If we'd been on the first level and the bullet fuel tank instead of me, we'd all be dead."

Clarke's confused face turned to scan Wells and Murphy's faces before meeting Raven's eyes again. "There's rocket fuel down there? Enough to build a bomb?"

Raven wiped her face as a pleased smile filtered across her lips. "Enough to build 100 bombs. If only we had any gunpowder left."

Wells turned the conversation back to Lincoln's book in his hand. "Let's get back to the reapers. Maybe they'll help us. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?"

Clarke meet his curious eyes. "Not this enemy. Trust me, it's not an option. Besides there's no time for this."

Finn's hand brushed against Raven's head. "Can she walk or not?"

When Clarke told them that Raven would have to be carried, Raven tried to stand herself up with her desperate protests. Clarke pushed her back down on the ground as softly as she could. "Hey, listen to me. That bullet is still inside you. If by some miracle, there's no internal bleeding, it might hold until we get somewhere safe. But you are not walking there. Is that clear?"

Raven's defeated start met Clarke's understand eyes as Finn turned to go get the stretcher.

After getting Raven situated on the stretcher, she stepped outside of the drop ship to announce they had no more time and it was time for them to get moving.

Murphy came up to her side as they surveyed the kids scrambling to get the rest of their stuff together. "What do we do if they follow? It's a 120-mile walk to the ocean."

Finn's angry voice cut through into their conversation "Look, we're wasting time. If he wants to stay, he can stay."

Clarke's voice carried an annoyed tone as she shot Finn a look. "No, he can't. We can't do this without you, Murphy."

Murphy nodded at her. Taking one last look at the camp before bumping gently against Clarke. "We did good here, Murphy."

He turned to her with a sad smile. "18 dead."

"Yeah, but 82 alive. You did good."

The group filed out quickly and quietly with Murphy, Wells, and Clarke taking up the rear of the group. After about a quarter of a mile some of the kids at the front of the group stopped the group. With barely a moment to look around before a weapon came hurtling out of the woods and buried itself into Drew's skull.

Screams of terror rose up from the herd of kids, some kids grabbed Drew as they all turned to race back to the way they'd come. Everyone shouted as they raced through the gates of camp.

Wells voice was filled with terror as he stood on the outlook above the gate. "Why aren't they attacking?"

Clarke looked up at him. "Because we're doing exactly what they wanted us to do."

Wells pulled his eye away from the scoop on his gun. "What are you talking about?"

Clarke looked at the others as they gathered with her beneath where Wells stood. "Lincoln said the scouts would be the first to arrive."

Finn's voice carried over as he arrived after putting Raven back in the drop ship. "If it's just scouts, we can fight our way out. For all we know, there's one scout out there. Clarke, we can still do this."

Murphy looked over to her with a raised eyebrow. "Looking to you, Princess. What's it gonna be? Run and get picked off out in the open, or stand and fight back?"

Finn argued back. "Clarke. If we're still here when Tristan gets here -"

Clarke cut Finn off before the boys could get any further into their argument. "Lincoln said scouts. As in more than one. He said, "get home before the scouts arrive." Finn, they're already here." She turned to Murphy. "Looks like you've got your fight."

Raising his voice Murphy turned to the rest of camp who'd gathered around as they talked through it. "Ok, then. This is what we've been preparing for. Kill them before they kill us. Gunners, to your posts. Use the tunnels to get in and out. From now on, the gate stays closed."

After getting the rest of camp settled and working on any last-minute preparations that they could make before the rest of the grounders who were sent to kill them showed up, Clarke and the boys were settled around Raven in the bottom of the drop ship.

She turned to Murphy. "So, what do we have ready for us."

Murphy and Wells talked in tandem as their fingers ran over the map Clarke had been drawing over the last several weeks. "We've got 25 rifles with 20 rounds each, give or take. Roughly 500 rounds of ammo. While you two were gone, we made some improvements. Thanks to Raven, the gully is mined."

Raven piped up to correct them. "Partially mined. Thanks to the explosion."

Wells jumped over her pessimistic correction. "Still, it's the main route in. If the grounders use it, we'll know. She also built grenades.:

Clarke picked up a handful of metal tubes with wicks of cloth hanging out of one end. "It's not many."

Raven again piped up. "Again, thank you, children."

Murphy jumped in this time. "We'll make them count. If the grounders make it through the front gate, guns and grenades should force them back."

Looking between the rest of them Clarke asked. "And then?"

Raven's drowsy, pain filled voice said, "Then we close the door and pray."

"And pray what?" Her eyebrows shot up towards her hairline. "That the ship keeps them out? Because it won't."

"Then let's not let them get through the gate." Murphy said. He lifted the radio to his mouth to issue orders. "All foxholes listen up. Keep your eyes and ears open. Inflict casualties, as many as possible. You can hold them off long enough to make them turn back. That's the plan."

Finn's sarcastic, caustic voice cut at Murphy. "That's always your plan, just like the bomb at the bridge."

At the mention of the bridge, Clarke's mind began to race. Ignoring the sound of the boys bickering. They had rocket fuel; they had a rocket ship! "It can't be that simple." Clarke muttered to herself before turning to Raven. "You said there's fuel in those rockets, right? Enough to build 100 bombs."

She smiled irreverently. "I also said we've got no gunpowder left."

"I don't want to build a bomb." The sound of the bickering waned when Clarke paused. "I want to blast off."

Raven's grin turned genuine. "Draw them in close. Fire the rockets. A ring of fire."

Murphy smirked. "Barbecued grounders. I like it."

"But will it work?" Wells turned to look at Raven.

Raven nodded. "You give me enough time and I'll cook them real good."

With the plan of action in place and communicated out to the rest of camp everyone left to man their posts or prepare what needed to be done. That left Clarke to help Raven who was struggling through the pain, to prepare the rocket. Something that Clarke was less than qualified to do. Raven blew a breath through her nose at her frustration with not being able to crawl down there and help.

"Look harder!" Raven yelled down. "You have to find the that connects the manual override to the electromagnet. It's not rocket science."

An amused smile lit upon Clarke's face. "Yes, it is rocket science, actually."

"Guess we finally found something you're not good at." Raven paused, and Clarke wasn't sure that she would continue. When Raven's voice finally called back down to her there was an ironic lilt to it. "I used to be picked first for everything. Earth skills, zero-g mech course. First. Every time. So, how the hell did I end up here?"

Know that some of Raven's pain was her fault, Clarke couldn't help but call up to the amazing woman above her. "Raven? I'd pick you first."

Clarke could hear the false bravado in Raven's voice when she said, "Of course you would. I'm awesome."

Clarke's finger finally found the wire she was looking for. Calling up to Raven as her she traced the line down until she hit the fried ends of it. When she told Raven that it was fried, the sound that came out of Raven told her everything she needed to know but she couldn't help but ask her for verbal confirmation.

Raven's only response was to ask if Clarke had ever spliced a wire. At her denial, Raven confirmed her worst fears. This was the worst-case scenario. At the sudden crackle of the radio by Clarke's foot, Jasper's voice came over the radio. The Grounders were here, and they found their land mines. Raven's excited voice called over the sound of the gunners calling back and forth to each other. "Jasper can splice"

Clarke picked up her radio, calling out into it. "Jasper, we need you in the dropship right now."

Murphy called back to her that they couldn't give up the west woods, she reminded them that they were mined, and the Grounders had just figured that out. Murphy conceded the point.

The fighting continued as Clarke and Jasper tried to keep the pretty mechanic awake, to keep her alive, while they waited for Finn to return with the meds, he hoped he'd get from Lincoln. They prayed that he'd even be able to find Lincoln in time, while she begged Raven to tell them just one more time what Jasper needed to do to launch the drop ship.

The grounders had gotten smart and were trying to make them waste bullets, but thankfully Wells' mind was able to decipher their strategy before they wasted to many bullets. That didn't keep the sound of bullets meeting from Clarke's ears with increasing frequency. Knowing that they couldn't keep them at bay much longer.

When Jasper had prepared the graft, he called up to Raven to tell him, just one more time, please, they heard a thump as Raven slipped down. Clarke sprinted up the ladder to check on her to see her unresponsive on the ground where she had sat. Jasper's hesitant voice asked for confirmation that Raven was gone, as if unwilling to believe the sight in front of him.

"She's not gone yet. But soon." Clarke told Jasper right as one of the kids on the radios screamed that the grounders were breaking through their defenses and heading for the gate. She turned back to Jasper with a brisk "Finish it." before she walked out of the drop ship to see what was happening outside.

Miller was panicking as he shouted to the others. "There are too many! Everybody to dropship now!"

"No! We need more time." She yelled, slowing the retreat of the kids. "Gunners stay at your posts. The rest of you, inside." She waved the kids who weren't actively engaged in the fight to the drop ship.

A large explosion sounded from above them drawing everyone on both sides to a halt. The petite brunette next to her asked if the falling metal ship was from the Ark. But Clarke's eyes drew together as she realized that was too big to be a drop ship and the only explanation was that it was the Ark itself, which she told the girl before ushering her inside.

Before everyone could shake off the stunned silence at the appearance of the pieces of the Ark, a sound that she'd hoped she'd never hear again met her ears. The strange grumbling scream of the reapers as they attacked the humans in front of them. It sent a shiver down her spine before her eyes drank in the sight of Finn in relief. He jogged up to her on the ramp with a proud smile on his face. She couldn't muster up a smile in response, but she did ask, "What did you do?"

"I kicked the hornet's nest." He said as he handed her the medicine for Raven.

Stunned, Clarke couldn't help but ask. "You brought the reapers?"

He nodded before looking up to the open maw of the drop ship. "I just bought us some time. How's Raven?"

She met his eyes as her hand grasped his, running her thumb in soothing circles across his knuckles. "She's not good. And the rockets aren't ready yet. Jasper's working on them now."

Finn's surprise that Jasper was their plan B lasted only for a moment before they moved in unison towards the door.

Before they could enter the drop ship, Miller's voice called back to her. "Clarke! They're taking down the gate!"

Jasper's slim form appeared from behind her with a smile on his narrow face. "Good. Because I did it... I think."

Miller called the retreat as the grounders gave one last heave on the ropes, they'd managed to get around the gate. They poured in so rapidly that not all of the kids were able to move away from their posts before they were savagely ripped down from where they stood. Clarke watched in horror as blood sprayed out of slashed throats and insides fell out of belly wounds to pool at the kid's feet before they fell to the floor.

Miller's voice drew her back to the present when he grabbed her arm trying to haul her back inside a frantic "I'm closing that door." spilled from his mouth.

She pulled away from him saying, "We've still got people out there. Murphy's not back yet." Turning to the kid next to her that was holding the pipe bomb in his hand she told him. "Use the grenades!" before calling to the kids who still were fighting their way back to the drop ship to hurry.

The flash of the exploding grenade illuminated the area enough for Finn to point Murphy out. "There he is!"

Clarke's heart leap to her throat as tears threatened her eyes. "He's never gonna make it. Murphy, run!"

Murphy's eyes met hers quickly before he was dropped by the haft of Tristan's ax. He flipped over on to his back just in time for Tristan to pounce on him. Tristan's fist flying in rapid succession over Murphy's face.

"He's killing him." Clarke yelled but to whom, she couldn't say.

The sound of Finn grabbing a gun barely registered until he saw him sprint towards Murphy. "Stop, Finn, no!" she cried as the tears that only threatened finally fell. Finn's head snapped back when Tristan rebounded with fists after Finn had knocked him backwards off of Murphy.

She hadn't realized she was shouting at them until Miller pulled her back towards the ship with a pained voice he said. "Clarke, you can't save everybody. Let's go! Let's go."

The next few moments drove forward with the unmistakable pace of war; at the pace that slows when the brain registers trauma as the memory is recalled. She looked towards Finn and Murphy who would never make it in time, they would be lost to the flames when she told Jasper to do it, "Now." Her heart in her throat made her voice horse. Turning away from those she would never forget because she couldn't save them, she lifted the lever that controlled the door of the drop ship, damning those still outside to their fate.

Before the hydraulics could fully close the door a cry of anger met Clarke's ears just before Anya's hard lined body appeared. "Anya, you can't win." Clarke intoned, despondently.

She barely had the words out before Anya leapt at her. Miller dropped her with a gun to the back of the head. The spark of violence set the whole crowd of kids in motion. Some tried to attack Anya no matter how Clarke screamed for them to stop, while others listened to Clarke as she pointed out that the grounder had already lost.

When the Rockets launched a hush fell over the kids before Clarke cried out. "We are not grounders." telling Miller to take her weapons but not to hurt her anymore.

The fires took several hours to die out but when they could no longer hear the sound of blazing wood Clarke pulled the lever to open the door. The break of day over the trees blinded her long enough to miss the shape of men in the surrounding them. The haze of pink smoke filled their vision before they could even hope to run everyone dropped to the ground.

XXXXXXXXXX

The scout that brought the news of the battle at the drop ship ran quickly from the room as the young Heda swept his lithely muscled arm across the table in front of him. Throwing books and maps and other items scrambling across the floor.

He braced his hands on the desk as his chest heaved up in down in furry. The angry jut of his jaw was amplified by muscles that worked it up and down. When his sister's face appeared in his line of sight, unafraid of the enraged man in front of her, his hands gripped the edge of the table before he flipped it in her direction with a shout.

"Lincoln will answer for what he's done!" Octavia's eyes widened at his words. "I'll not be made a fool of!"

She nodded stiffly know that he'd calm down eventually and she hoped with that calm, he'd not do anything drastic to the man she loved. He stared down his sister and though he felt it deep inside he could never admit that this Golden leader of their had impressed him with her desire to survive. The length she went to keep her people alive, he wasn't sure he would go that kind of distance himself. Her spirit reminded him of the strong-willed woman in front of him, who was always moving forward towards the love a person, the love of her people.

"Get out of my sight, O." He couldn't mask the disgust in his voice, not at her - though she probably thought it was directed at her - but at the thoughts he had running across the back of his mind.