Amber said nothing on the walk back to camp. Last time she spoke she was telling her brother she was fine after the incident with the panther, he nodded without question, satisfied with her unadorned answer. The Murphy's never needed reassurance.
Wells and Finn held the still unconscious Jasper, and Murphy held Amber's kill with the help of Blake. The light brunette as usual fell behind the group, not wanting to be in anyone's way as they carried their cargo back to camp. And, before Amber knew it, they were back being greeted with the hum of teenage life.
Amber watched as Monty rushed over to his friend being held by the two boys in front of him, "Is he-?"
"He's alive. I need boiled water and strips of cloth for bandage." Clarke cut him off, ordering as she prepared herself to tend to Jasper's wounds. Moving past them, Bellamy and Murphy placed the wrapped dead beast down as a crowd began to form. Bellamy hastily removed the cover, revealing the animal for the crowd to see. A number of excited noises came from the group of teenagers who Amber soon stood amongst.
"Who's hungry?!" Blake yelled, and Amber rolled her eyes as the kids beside her jolted in anticipation, roaring words of contentment. They all cheered, closing in on the older Blake and John. Murphy's sister stood still, observing Bellamy whose eyes met hers. Amber couldn't decipher what kind of expression he had towards her; it was completely and utterly impenetrable, unreadable being an understatement. She was being hypocritical, though, Amber was absolutely indecipherable herself. The eye contact was short lived, as Bellamy's sister clutched at his side and they gave each other a hug, but Amber never tore her eyes away. Bellamy and Octavia's relationship was so different to hers and John's. It was love in its purest form, she realized. Amber loved John, more than she had to ability to express. But it surpassed sibling love. They survived together. It was the love of two people who had trauma that only they could share with each other. Though Amber was the primary target to the heat of the fire her childhood fell victim to, John felt it too. John was all Amber knew, he wasn't just a little brother who kept her on her toes, he was the reason she hung on for so long. Amber did not know how to interact with anybody else. She was alone until she was with John for a few hours of day, if she even saw him at all. He was the one person who did not question her, or blame her for anything. And she would never even think to not do the same for him. The two had a mutual and unspoken understanding, since birth, they were to be strong and they were to survive no matter what they needed to do. They would not question their instincts and they would not think twice, it's just how they were raised. Which was, ultimately or potentially the reason they both did awful things to find themselves in jail, but in the end, they were together and they were free.
John and Bellamy were making people take off their wristbands for food. Amber sat in the dark watching as her brother confronted Finn for attempting to take a bit of meat from the pile John guarded. Amber couldn't hear what he was saying from the distance she stood away, but knowing her brother, she could assume. She hadn't realized how starving she was until she watched this quarrel. Her stomach growled and she shifted onto her feet, one of her hands clamping down on the metal wristband that decorated the other. She had no real reason for not taking it off, but she also had no reason to take it off. She couldn't care less if the people of the Ark came down to Earth, she'd be treated the same as she was now. There were other murderers in the camp, why was she treated so different? Was it that her unrecognized face plastered the walls of the Ark for weeks on end? Was it because not only did she commit such a crime, but she too, was able to hide under the floor for all her years, baffling everybody? Or was it the way she carried herself? As much as she questioned the way she was treated, she did not blame them. Amber doesn't think that she feels guilt. She only thinks about how things would be different if she was never born.
Amber watched on as Finn and Murphy spoke, her eyes drifting off to see Clarke doing the same. She remembered how the blonde girl failed to mention Amber's place in the incident with Octavia the other day. She couldn't blame Clarke for hating her, Amber was sure she had a reason, though she didn't care enough to figure it out. Amber thought it was most definitely no different to the reason why everyone else avoided contact with Amber.
Suddenly, Finn walked away from John, and another boy tried to take food but Bellamy Blake wasn't having it. With a single punch, the hungry boy was knocked to the ground. And once again, Amber's feet moved without her consent. She found herself in front of Blake. Her nostrils flared and her thick brows furrowing. She was confused at her anger, but she did not hold it back, the Murphy's never hold back.
"So it's not whatever the hell we want, huh?" She stepped close to him, only inches away from his face. "It's whatever the hell Bellamy Blake wants. The kids hungry, jackass. Who do you think you are? Who says you get to decide who eats and who doesn't? " She spat, her face close to his, not in attempt to intimidate him but to get her message through his seemingly thick skull. "It's not like you killed your dinner, Blake." One of her brows arched, and her facial expression resembled that of a mischievous smirk. "Actually, if I remember correctly—you're the one who should have been your dinner's dinner." Scoffing, she gestured to the bloodstained knife visibly in the waistband of her high-rise black jeans. "Funny that. Let the kids eat." She huffed, crossing her arms.
"Amber, back o—" John attempted to intervene, but with a quick flash of eye contact from Amber, it was best for him to stay out of it.
Her eyes met Blake's once again, never taking backing down.
"Why do you want them to take off their wristbands, anyway? Am I the only one who thinks there's an ulterior motive? Seriously—" She looked around to the crowd that stared at her, "Why are you kids following this guy? 'Cause he has a freakin' guards uniform?" Her voice lowered as she faced the target of her accusations; "Self-serving jackass." She mumbled and finally began to walk backwards, satisfied with her spontaneous burst of confidence to speak up, as Blake just stood staring, not in shock but he had a resemblance to a blasé face. Assuming that the damage was done, she was about to turn to leave into the darkness when he spoke up.
"Why do you still have your wristband on?" Blake's voice was punitive and condemning, Amber stopped, glaring from what felt like yards away. Bellamy acknowledged the large crowd watching, but he did not hesitate to continue. "You want the higher-ups in the ark to know their favorite murderer's still alive?" Everybody around winced, it was never announced officially that she was whom they suspected, even if it was obvious. Though it was already known, it felt like a confirmation to the teenagers, intensifying the fear associated with this woman. "Could you imagine if they pair the fact that everyone's wristband signals are being terminated with the fact that yours is still active? I think they're up there believing you're killing everybody off one by one, not the radiation. Funny that." He mocked her, and he could have sworn he saw her face change, only for a moment. It was, if he wasn't mistaken, almost a mix of sadness, shock and maybe, just maybe, guilt. Until now, he hadn't seen this girl for what she was, a person. Bellamy's predetermined thoughts about this seemingly hostile killer were gone for a brief moment. He had forgotten how she was kept under the floor like O for what he assumed was all her life, all he had focused on was that she killed those people that one night, and that was it. He didn't know her reasoning nor did he know her circumstances, but he went ahead and called her out on it in public in the harshest way he could manage. Despite there being other murderers in the group of 100, probably even more deadly, he called her out. Even though she saved both his and his sister's life. But he was Bellamy Blake, and he did what he had to do to survive. Everyone feared Amber, it was no secret. She was different to the other killers because her story was so public, no one knew who she was and what her story contained. Her face and description was broadcasted across the Ark for weeks, it was colossal. Everyone spoke about this girl like she was a ghost; rumors were spread, hysteria ensued. It was pandemonium. This was around the time he lost his sister. Octavia was discovered, and it was his fault. But by losing his sister, the guards found Amber. From what Bellamy heard, she never spoke a word to anybody when she was arrested, thinking about it now this sounded ridiculous to him since Amber seemed to butt in whenever she felt necessary. This girl was a mystery, and now that she was on the ground, all along she did in actuality have a name and a family. But, that was all anyone really knew about her. However, kids would be kids. They'd take the rumors from the Ark and apply them to now, building the notion of Amber being this intimidating and murderous girl, sister of the erratic John Murphy, who was quiet, mysterious and not to be trusted. If Blake wanted to lead them, he'd have to go with the arrogances of these kids. Majority rules, even if it meant belittling somebody who seemed to mind her own business at all costs and only do the right thing so far, even if it meant risking her life.
It took a few moments for Amber to process what Blake had said. Something inside of her felt a sharp punch from his words; she cursed herself for being so sensitive.
He was right, she thought. Why wouldn't the Ark think that? They had no other information about why these kids appeared to be dying. It seemed legitimate. They knew Amber was still alive. Why wouldn't they connect the dots?
Amber did not rebuttal Blake's statements nor did she make any sound; she simply and promptly just walked away.