Clarke and Murphy led the way across the island, up the slope, and into sight of Alie's home. This was where the tracks led them. They all knew this wasn't a time for superfluous conversation and kept communications to the necessary. A flicker in the distance got their attention. Clarke turned to the others.

"Me alone. She trusts me, and maybe Jaha, but she doesn't know you. I need to see, she'll let me."

Raven said, "No way we're letting go by yourself."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Bellamy said slashing his hand downward as if it made it so. "No."

Murphy raised his hands for attention. "Clarke knows Alie better than anyone. She can do this. It's the only way to have any assurance that Alie doesn't figure out what we're up to. We can assume she doesn't know since her drones haven't been hovering."

"What if…"

"Shut up, Bellamy. Clarke's perfectly capable."

As they were debating the issue, Clarke slipped off unseen by Raven, Bellamy, and Wick. Murphy winked at her. She kept his smile in her mind as she walked straight into the lion's den so to speak. Alie. A lion. A lying lion. Sharp metal claws and bullet spit at worst, get back Mom at best. Not that mom was mom-like anymore. Vile words trying to take away her quarter, take her away, no mother should take away shelter.

Concentrate! She smacked the side of her head. Gotta get Mom. These tracks lead to Mommy. Get her. Get her back. The lights in the mansion flicked on when her foot hit the first stair. "Alie! Got bored, wanted to play chess. Are you playing chess with Mommy? She tracked mud into the house. Do you want me to clean it up?"

"Clarke." Alie appeared near the door to the back room. "I'm sorry. I know you don't mean me harm, but the people around you do. I had to defend myself. I must still."

Clarke walked past the hologram into the forbidden back room. The walls were red. Splattered red with person juice. Behind the mostly assembled missile were empty flesh suits. "That used to be mother, not mom, not mommy now. Jaha smells like week old death nails and worms. Alie?"

"With your help I can keep you safe. Fix you. We can flip the genes that are scrambling your thoughts. I know the science. You know the medicine. Think about it, Clarke, having your mind back. You want that don't you?"

"Let me think about it. Need to talk to John now. I'll be right back." Clarke shuffled to the front door, but it was closed and locked. "Alie? Let me go!"

"I'm sorry Clarke but they all have to go." Alie played a recording of Clarke screaming during a bad spell, and Clarke spun around, picked up a chair and bashed every sensor in sight. All the hologram sources were smashed, and finally through a window. The drones flew fast in the distance and fired bullets rapid.

"NO!" Clarke sprinted back to her friends and found them all shot. Raven's bad leg was shredded, Wick had a chest wound, and Murphy was face down, blood staining the surrounding snow. "NO!"

"Clarke, get Monty," Raven gasped out.

Not listening, Clarke ripped her coat and sweater off. Off went her T-shirt, ripped into strips, using a nearby stick, she made a tourniquet at the top of Raven's thigh. "Press here! Here, here."

Raven saw that Clarke meant Wick's chest wound and pressed as hard as she could, blood squirting through her fingers, no matter how clamped together she tried to keep them.

Clarke turned John over, finding belly wounds. "Surgery. Have a knife need to do it now. Now. Now. No, can't yet. Need to sew, can't do that here."

Now looking over Wick, Clarke saw that the chest wound was at the shoulder. "He'll be fine if we can get the bleeding to stop. Needs to stop leaking juice. Press haaaard. I'll be back. Have to save John. Can't lose my Murphy. He's not allowed to die. I don't allow it."

Bare from the waist up, Clarke stuffed T-shirt into the three holes and pulled him by his legs down the hill. "Light the house, in the lighthouse. Sewing kit, and antibiotic weeds. We have some saved. They'll make him better, gotta fix him."

She stopped a couple times to check his pulse, erratic but strong. "I'll take care of you, John. I can do this. You need me for a switch."

Blood streaked the white fluff, making red slush. "Too much juice. Too much juice." The lighthouse was in sight but his breathing caught and he coughed. Another stop. Reality sinking through the haze. "John." She fell to her knees next to him, tears dripping on his cheek. "John!"

His eyes never opened. She kissed all over his face. His eyes never opened. Pulse slowing fast, and his eyes never opened. "Please. Hang on! I have to get you home. I can do this. I can save you. Can't I? You believe me? Right? Please. Please open! Eyes have to open!"

John Murphy's eyes never opened. And Clarke decided that hers wouldn't either. Her arms tight around the freezing corpse, she let the cold seep into her from the ground. If he was cold, she would be too. She'd follow him anywhere he led. Even if that was through death's door. They'd walk through it together. She wouldn't leave him to go by himself.

"Death nails and worms."

And follow she did. Without a shirt the cold took her in no time.

Monty found them after the sun rose. He'd finished the machine, and no one had returned. When he found Clarke and Murphy covered in blood and fresh snow, he bowed his head for a moment, but trudged forward, looking for Raven and Wick and Bellamy and Alie. Especially Alie. That bitch would die if it was the last thing he did in this world.