Prologue


Clarke stared at the tablet in her bloodied hands. On one hand her knuckles were smarting from where she had accidentally punched the viewport in the turbulence, and she was sure those very knuckles would be white and deathly pale with how strongly she was holding onto the tablet if they weren't covered in blood.

Her other hand remained uninjured though she could feel the muscles beginning to cramp from how tightly she was gripping the glowing display. Her heart hadn't stopped screaming out at her for what seemed like hours though she knew it no more than a few short, terrifying, too long moments of time that kept replaying over and over in her mind.

She swallowed the lump in her throat only to grimace at the taste of iron on her tongue. She spat out the blood, whether it be from her broken lip or her tongue accidentally bitten, she knew not.

She took a deep breath in through her nose next. The smell of bitter burning metal stung her nostrils. Acrid smoke, chemicals lilting upon the air and a tang of something she couldn't grasp filled her lungs and she knew those things unkind to her body for she coughed, almost gagged on the smell and she knew best not to breathe too deeply lest she make herself sick.

Clarke blinked once, twice, thrice. She began to fumble for the seatbelt that kept her trapped inside the drop pod. She winced at the pain in her knuckles, she shoved the tablet aside and she managed to free herself with a grunt and a click of buckle being undone. Clarke almost completely slid out from the drop pod's seat, the seat's suspension arms having taken most of the impact.

Clarke barely had any space to stand inside the cramped drop pod. Her pack was fastened to the metal plating to her left. More supplies jammed into netting to her right. She reached for the tablet again, the motion awkward as she twisted her arm in search of the glowing screen. It took her just a moment before she pulled it free and held it up to her eyes.

Blinking lights, numbers, graphs and things she hadn't had time to memorise flowed across the screen. She couldn't make sense of it all, but she knew enough.

Earth's atmosphere was breathable.

Radiation levels were within safe levels.

She wasn't going to die.

And yet Clarke refused to believe.

But she should.

She needed to trust the drop pod's sensors. She needed to trust her eyes.

She needed to trust herself or else she wouldn't make it more than a few days alone on Earth's surface.

Clarke took in a shallow, steadying breath. She reached for the drop pod's emergency release and she knew there was no going back.

Clarke pulling the lever was met with a quiet hiss as hydraulics actuated and began to open the escape hatch. A hum of machinery whirred into life as gears pulled the hatch open. Clarke felt the air in the drop pod hiss against her body as it rushed out from cramped confines. The smell of burning metal and acrid chemicals rushed against her for a brief moment. Even the dark of the drop pod was spat back in her face as blinding light slammed through the crack that appeared without care for her timid eyes.

And then there was silence.

Clarke stared at the blinding light that stung against her skin. Her eyes squinted past the brightness and she tried not to trip, she tried not to falter as she stepped forward. Her boot clipped against the metal edge of the drop pod, she caught herself on the hatch's edge and then she stilled.

It took Clarke a few seconds to realise what she was feeling. It took her a couple more seconds to accept it and it took her just a second longer before a tired smiled slowly spread across her lips.

Wind gentled against her face, it tickled her nose and took hold of strands of hair that dared to come loose in her descent.

Clarke had always imagined what wind would feel like against her face. She always imagined what it would feel like for the sun to breathe against her skin.

And it was cliched, contrived, expected in so many ways but imaging it could never compare to experiencing it for the first time.

Clarke smiled, she laughed. It was a bubbly sound, something unbecoming of the situation but she cared not in that moment.

But just as quickly as the laughter came, so too did it die.

Clarke found herself quiet with one foot out of the drop pod, the other rooted to the metal plating of the drop pod's interior. She looked around as her eyes adjusted to the light and she realised what she saw were trees. Large trees, their trunks mighty and moss covered, sprawled out all around her. Though she couldn't see their tops she knew them taller than anything she could imagine. Some of the closer trees to the drop pod smouldered, embers burnt upon the grass that was flattened and the few bushes that had survived Clarke's explosive return to the ground lay swept aside as their roots clung to the soil so desperately.

Clarke took one last steadying breath before she stepped fully out of the drop pod. Her boots settled onto the ground, they sunk into the dirt and she tried not to trip as she reached back into the drop pod.

Clarke fumbled for her bag, the supplies and her tablet for a few short moments before she turned back to face the world. Her bag was slung over aching shoulders, the supplies tied up in netting by her feet and her eyes staring at the tablet in her hands.

Clarke bit her lip. She winced and cursed herself at biting her fresh wound and then she stared at the map she had pulled up on the tablet. She knew where she needed to go. She knew what she needed to do and she knew she needed to succeed.

Clarke's dad hadn't given his life for her to give up or let in to fears. Clarke hadn't endured almost a year of solitary confinement to become a coward and she hadn't volunteered to come crashing down to the Earth's surface just to die before even beginning.

And so Clarke Griffin squared her shoulders. She steadied her mind and she began moving lest she begin to falter before her journey even stared.