A group went to see if they could retrieve anything from the crash site. They managed to salvage several containers of supplies and the black box. The cargo survived because of the blast-proof plastic. The same wrapping saved the bodies from charring. The passengers had been poisoned when the burning fuel tanks fumigated the cabin.
Anya watched as Clarke searched the bodies, looking for her mother. Raven and Monty had a moment of triumph when they found blueprints, but when Clarke found a group of scorched skeletons under a pile of rubble, the celebration stopped. One of the skeletons had screws in the ankle. Clarke's mom had the same kind after she'd splintered her ankle falling off a ladder.
In a broken voice, Clarke said, "It's not proof." Then she stumbled toward the caravan. Anya offered a shoulder for Clarke to lean on, and together they climbed into the passenger wagon. She continued to lean on Anya as they rode back to Shaw. It had been a long time since Anya had let anyone this close to her, silky hair brushing her cheek as she held onto Clarke's soft hand.
When they reached home, Clarke's entire demeanor changed, the agony replaced by determination. "What'd we get?"
Raven and Monty unwrapped schematics for sewage systems, plumbing, electrical grids and retrieval systems. There were blueprints for efficient buildings, medical equipment, and large tools. Instructions on metal work, glass work, and making safety plastic. Recipes for everything from food to hygiene products to medicine. There were two large containers of seeds, a couple with tools, and three with medical supplies. Raven looked at Clarke, "We might actually get this place civilized after all."
"Monty, Raven, what do you think we should work on first? I'm thinking water retrieval." Clarke asked.
"I agree. Everything we need to do will need reliable access to water. Right, Raven?"
"Yup. We'll save all the seeds for spring, since winter's in a couple months. So I say we work on building insulated homes at the same time. We have enough people to work on both and get them done before the ground gets too hard." Raven stuffed her hands in her back pockets.
"Anya?" Clarke looked at the leader. "What do you think?"
She looked over the strange, shiny paper and understood none of it. But she did understand their conversation. "How reliable is this?"
"Very," Raven said. "With these plans, we can build a plumbing system and enough homes with heat for the entire village if we start now. We'll need everyone in the village to pull it off, but it's doable."
Monty, getting into the spirit, added, "And we can also build a more efficient system for food storage and preparation. Not to mention making medications. I can do that with just a couple extra hands in three or four days after we have plumbing."
Clarke saw some uncertainty on Anya's face. "If you let us, we can help save more lives, keep our village warm over the winter. And provide clean drinking water to the whole village without having to lug the water from the well and boil it everyday."
Indra approached while Clarke spoke. "Carrying water in the winter is dangerous. Spilling any can mean losing toes. Many die from infection. Do these skaikru think they can stop that?"
"That's exactly what we're saying."
"Let them try." Indra stared at Clarke with a threat in her eyes. "But if any trigedakru suffer from it, they suffer just as much."
"I concur." Anya looked at the three newcomers. "The three of you will be in charge of planning and Indra will work with you. She knows the villagers and what they're capable of better than anyone. And at the end of every day, Clarke and Indra will report progress to me."
No sign or signals from the Ark worried Clarke as they finished their first week of construction in the village. This was not helped by an attack on scavenging crew by dropship kids. They killed four of Clarke's people with head shots while they only lost one of theirs. All the wounded ended up here, including Nathan Miller. He'd taken a spear to the shoulder and he'd never be able to use that arm again. Not that it mattered, he wouldn't survive the week. Jus drein jus daun.
After patching everyone up and sending Miller to lockup, Clarke went home and fell onto the mat. "Anya and Indra are going to demand an attack on the dropship after this."
Murphy and Bellamy had been playing cards, but when Clarke got in, they put their cards down and exchanged grave looks. Murphy sighed. "She's going to expect Octavia, Jasper, Finn, Bellamy and me to fight and if even one of us shows any disloyalty, she'll kill us all."
"I know." Clarke closed her eyes, remembering people she'd left behind when she joined the grounders. She also remembered the celebration when the village finished the first segment of plumbing. How they thanked the skaikru, hugging them all, cheering their names. "We don't have a choice."
"How's Miller?" Bellamy asked.
"As comfortable as I could make him, but they'll execute him before too long."
"How're they gonna do it?" Bellamy's cold expression fell on Murphy.
"Not going to lie. It's not pretty. They call it death by a thousand cuts. Every villager, and that'll include us, will cut him or cut something off him like fingers or ears. That goes on until either Anya or Indra beheads him." Murphy's bluntness was necessary for a switch.
"How do you know?" The desperate anger in Bellamy's voice hit both Murphy and Clarke in the chest.
"Saw it happen once. Guy murdered the spouse of his old lover and tried to kill the person who caught him. You know her. Echo."
Clarke pushed herself up. "Yeah, she still comes to get treated for the fingers she lost defending herself."
"She's leading our hunting party while Murph heals," Bellamy said without thought. He slammed his fist against the wall. "I can't cut Miller and I can't stand by while he gets executed."
"He shot Octavia, Bell. If it weren't for lining her clothes with the reclaimed blast-proof plastic, she'd be dead. He shot her point blank in the chest. Even with the BPP she's got a bruised sternum." Clarke watched Bellamy's face cave. "She didn't want me to tell you, but there's no way around it. Miller and the rest of them declared war today. And they consider us enemies."
Murphy rolled his eyes at Bellamy's put out look. "You're thinking they betrayed us. But who betrayed who? You left them. You took a deal without discussing it with them." When Bellamy glared at him, Murphy shrugged. "I get it. The two of you made an executive decision. One that would've saved all of us if they'd just followed your lead. But you have to remember that no one on that dropship trusts anyone. After being used as guinea pigs and dropped here with no supplies, just instructions given to them from a distance, can you expect them to blindly follow any leader not standing right in front of them? We're lucky the most skilled of the bunch did follow you guys."
Haggard, Bellamy said, "I need a drink." The slamming door shook the entire structure.
"That went well."
"Shut up, Murphy." Clarke went after Bellamy. When she caught up to him at what passed as the local bar, she realized she had no idea what to say.
"Let him process this on his own, Clarke."
She nodded. "You're right, John. I just hate leaving him alone to deal with this by himself."
"He knows where to find you, so why don't you come get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be long. Funerals around here take a lot of energy. They almost require endurance training." Murphy took her by the wrist and guided her to their small, soon to be replaced home.
The whistle beckoning the entire village to gather made the muscle in Bellamy's jaw twinge. Clarke shared Bell's internal conflict, and Murphy didn't. They filed out of their home and walked silently toward the center of town. The first half of the day had been spent preparing the dead and their pyre. Bellamy hadn't said a word to anyone.
Anya met them halfway there. "I'm giving you a choice. If you can't handle the execution of a former compatriot, you can stay home."
"He shot my sister. I want to do more than cut him." Rage rippled through every word.
"You can't cut off anything larger than fingers. He'd bleed to death before the ritual ends."
"Understood."
The offer extended to Clarke and Murphy with a meaningful look from their leader.
"I'm fine with this."
"We all are," Clarke said.
"Good." Anya's approving half smile made few appearances, but they meant an acceptance hard-earned. This was the first time they'd been the recipients.
"Jus drein jus daun!" Anya and Indra rallied the village when their gazes met. The entire village began to chant the call for justice, including the immigrants from the sky. Finn mumbled the chant, while Raven's yelling was impassioned. Monty and Jasper tried to hide their fear. Octavia and Lincoln's involvement seemed obligatory, neither happy nor upset to be here. Murphy was having fun. A cold calm rage motivated Bellamy. And Clarke started slow, but then she remembered why Miller and the others attacked the villagers. They didn't want them to have better weapons. The scavenging team found the bunker where she and Bell got guns. They were gathering metal and mechanical parts when the skaikru showed up and started shooting. If it weren't for the blast-proof plastic, the scavenging crew would have been massacred. And before the chanting ended, Clarke's screams were fervent.
Tied to a post in the middle of the crowd, Miller stood, stoic and defiant. Anya and Indra took turns making speeches about justice and making an example of Nathan.
Indra cut him first, along the inner arm, and he grunted but didn't scream. It took over twenty cuts by as many villagers for him to scream. Nyko delivered that cut, his knowledge of anatomy giving him the edge. Only a few more injuries later, Miller started to beg. But by the time Jasper got to him, Nathan didn't have the energy to speak or scream or even hold himself up. Half the villagers hailing from space apologized as they barely broke the skin: Jasper, Monty, Finn, even Octavia. Then there were the vicious expatriates: Murphy, Raven, and Bellamy, who each removed parts, fingers and an ear. Clarke was last in line and Miller rallied enough to spit a mouthful of blood in her face. Unphased, she said, "Jus drein jus duan," as she cut his cheek.
That turned out to be civilized compared to what happened after Anya beheaded Miller. Murphy and Bellamy played anger-filled soccer with the head. Once the macabre game got called after only three kicks, they wrapped the body and topped the pyre with it. The funeral could begin.
"Yu gonplei ste odon."
The somber veil that had fallen over the villagers as the smoke rose broke with a piercing scream.