ғᴏᴜʀ : ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅᴇʀs
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Since the rain has turned the dirt into mud and all the sticks damp, all the teens gather into the drop ship to find sleep. All the teens but Clara. She still doesn't trust them enough to sleep feet away from them all. The rain has turned into a drizzle, so she decides to stick it out and lie under a tall tree. She leans her head against a log and covers her body with her jacket as her only source of warmth.

The cold, the mud, and the drizzle aren't why Clara can't sleep. Her mind keeps her up with worries about Rez out in the forest and their new life on the ground. As she has found out, living on earth is a lot harder than it was in her books. For one, the books she reads did not take place in a post-nuclear war world. They had houses, families, and resources. Her only family, besides Rez in the forest on a search for supplies, is her mother on a space station thousands of miles away that blends in with the stars in the sky. The only shelter they have so far is the drop ship, and it's filled with teens who smell like they have never showered before.

What bothers Clara the most is how hard she is adapting to life on earth. She was always at the top of her classes on the Ark, but the kids who were failing their earth study classes seem to be having an easier time than she is.

Clara lets out a huff and sits up, pulling her jacket over her goosebump-covered arms. She stands and ignores the mud on her clothes. Her feet crunch the leaves and sticks under her as she walks out of their camp, no destination in mind.

After meandering around for a while, Clara stumbles on a bush filled with dark berries. She picks a berry off its bush and brings it up to her face to see it better in the dark. She sniffs it, then decides to pop it in her mouth. The sweet taste fills her mouth, and she decides it's probably a blackberry. She doesn't eat more than the one, though, just in case she's wrong and it is a poisonous berry.

The sound of twigs snapping nearby draws her attention away from the bush. She follows the noise until she reaches a small clearing, staying hidden behind a tree. She pokes her head out and spots Wells and Bellamy, the latter holding a gun. Her eyes widen. He's going to kill Wells.

"That's far enough," Bellamy says, and Wells halts in his place, turning to face the older boy. "I don't want to shoot you, Wells. Hell, I like you, but I do need them to think that you're dead."

Clara snorts. It's very clear that Bellamy doesn't like Wells in the slightest, anyone could see that.

Wells sighs and raises his brow. "Why? Why are you doing this?" When Bellamy opens his mouth to reply, Wells adds, "For real, not some crap about getting to do what ever you want to do."

Bellamy sets his hands on his hips and looks away. "I have my reasons." His eyes find Wells again, his eyes becoming guarded. "I also have the gun, so I ask the questions, and the question is, why aren't you helping me? Your dad banished you, Wells, and yet here you are, still doing his bidding, following the rules. Aren't you tired of always doing what's expected of you? Stand up to him. Take off that wristband, and you'll be amazed at how good it feels."

He's not killing Wells, Clara realizes. He just wants Wells to appear dead to his father, and for everyone else up on the Ark. It was surprising enough to learn that the Ark's golden child has been condemned to earth, but it will be a real shock when they think he has died. She looks down at her own wristband, wondering if the council would bother telling her mother if she died. To them, she's probably just another random delinquent.

Wells shakes his head firmly. "No. Never. Not gonna happen. Is that clear enough for you?"

"Yeah, it is." Bellamy lets his hands fall from his hips. "I'm sorry it had to be this way."

Out of nowhere, Miller, a boy Clara has seen hanging around Bellamy, emerges from the woods. He grabs Wells and restrains him.

"No! No!" Wells shouts as he thrashes in Miller's grip. "Get off of me! No!"

Clara's heart is in her throat. She takes a step forward, but before she can do anything, hands grab Clara's arms roughly. She yelps and whips her head around, her eyes wide. Murphy drags her into the clearing and calls out, "Hey, look what I found hiding behind the trees."

Bellamy turns. His stone-hard gaze falls on Clara, whose expression holds panic. Wells looks past Bellamy at the curly-haired girl and shouts, "Let her go!"

Bellamy sends Wells a warning glare before turning his attention back to Murphy. His grip tightens on her wrists as he pulls her closer, a smirk playing on his lips. "What do you think, boss?" Murphy asks. "What should we do with her?"

Clara tries to pull her arms from Murphy's hold, but he holds her closer.

Bellamy avoids Clara's eyes and stares at Murphy. "Nothing."

Murphy frowns, disappointed. "But she's—"

"She's a nobody," Bellamy says sternly, cutting him off. "No one will care if they see that she has no vitals. Let's stay focused and get the Chancellor's son's band off."

"But—"

"Leave her wristband," Bellamy demands, then adds, "for now." He turns back to Miller and nods.

Wells screams as Miller pushes him to the ground, pulling out a knife that glints in the moonlight.

"Stop it!" Clara shouts, struggling in Murphy's grip. "Let him go!"

Miller buries the knife in the space between the metal and Wells's dark skin. He applies enough pressure until there's a snap. The wristband falls off his wrist and lands on the ground in a puddle of mud.

Miller steps away from Wells. Wells falls to the ground on his knees and picks up his broken wristband, heartbroken. Bellamy's eyes shift to Murphy still holding back Clara, who watches Wells with sympathy. He gives him a stern look, and Murphy rolls his eyes and shoves her to the ground.

Clara catches herself with her hands planted in the mud. She pushes herself back up and rushes to Wells's side. "Hey, are you okay?"

Wells ignores Clara's question and looks up at Bellamy with a deadly glare. "You just have to have your way, don't you?"

"Better mine than yours," Bellamy replies with a subtle shrug.

Wells throws the wristband and rises to his feet. He storms past Miller, Murphy, and Bellamy, leaving Clara alone with the three.

Bellamy turns to the other two. "Go back to camp," he tells them. "Get some rest, we have a busy day tomorrow."

Murphy casts Clara one last look before trailing behind Miller in the direction of camp. When they are out of earshot, Bellamy shoves his gun in the waistband of his pants and turns to Clara.

Rising to her feet, her legs and hands all muddy, Clara avoids his stare and tries to pass him without any interaction. Bellamy has different plans.

"Why do you care about him so much?"

She stops. Turning, she notices Bellamy's eyes aren't cold anymore, more curious, like he can't believe someone doesn't hate Wells.

When she doesn't answer right away, Bellamy says, "His father locked you up and sent you down here to die, why don't you hate him like everyone else does?"

"Wells is not his father's actions," Clara replies, voice soft. Her eyes flicker to meet Bellamy's. They harden. "I'm just giving him a chance."

She doesn't wait for Bellamy to respond and instead trudges away, wiping the mud off of her jeans the best she can.

★

The morning after, Clara sets out to find the berry bush again. She is still very much alive, so she collects the berries with triumph, finally finding something she did right. The berries pop off their stems easily, and she leaves the ones that aren't ripe yet. She covers a make-shift plate she made from some wood with the berries so she has something to carry them.

On her way back into camp, Clara passes a small girl, twelve years old at most, sitting under a tree all by herself. Her light brown hair falls over her shoulders limply, and her eyes are empty and scared. Clara pokes the inside of her cheek with her tongue and glances between the berries and the girl a few times before deciding to go over.

"Hey," Clara greets, the girl's head snapping up at her voice. Clara sits next to her and offers her some berries. When the girl hesitates, she says, "They're blackberries, they're safe to eat. I had some last night."

The girl reaches out and takes a berry, popping it into her mouth. Clara smiles warmly when she reaches for a second. The girl is so young and looks so innocent, what could she have possibly done to get arrested?

Clara sets the plate of berries on the ground between them. "I'm Clara, by the way."

"Charlotte," the girl replies, her mouth full of berries. "Where did you find these?"

Clara points around the camp vaguely. "Just north—er, west?—of here. I'm not really sure since I'm not that good with directions, but it's not too far." Clara sits back against the tree and studies Charlotte. She tries to have some self-control, but after a few seconds of silence, she blurts, "What did you do to get arrested?"

Charlotte's whole demeanor changes. It's like she puts a wall up, and her eyes darken. "I freaked out on some guards when they floated my parents," she murmurs, fiddling with her jacket sleeve. "I guess I killed two."

Clara's eyes go wide. She definitely was not expecting that to turn so dark so quickly. Charlotte, unbothered, reaches for more berries. The berry juice starts to stain her finger tips, and Clara can't help but picture them being stained with blood instead. Shivers run down her spine.

"Um. . ." Clara stands and brushes off her dirty jeans. "Help yourself to those berries, I'm just going to go now."

A frown settles on Charlotte's lips. "Where are you going?"

"The bathroom," Clara answers quickly. "Well, the forest, but you know what I mean." Without another word, the girl swiftly walks away. She keeps her eye out for Wells, but doesn't find him until she hears a familiar voice shout his name on the other side of the drop ship.

"Wells! Let him go!"

At the sound of Clarke's voice, Clara practically bolts to the scene. She stops short at the sight of Wells holding a knife to Murphy's throat, Bellamy watching, and the group that went out to gather supplies from Mount Weather at the end of the hill. Clara's eyes find Rez's and she immediately rushes forward.

"Rez! Oh my gosh!" She rams into the boy, her arms flinging around his body as she sets her face on his shoulder. When Rez hisses in pain, Clara frowns and pulls back, assessing him head-to-toe. Her gaze catches the bloody cloth wrapped around his left arm. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Octavia, are you alright?" Bellamy asks from behind her. Clara looks past Rez and notices that Octavia also has a bloody cloth wrapped around her calf. Clarke, Finn, and the other boy, whom Clara figured out is Monty, seem to be fine, but then Clara realizes that they are missing the kid with goggles. Bellamy rushes forward and puts Octavia's arm around his shoulders to ease the amount of weight on her bad leg.

Wells lets go of Murphy. The crooked-nosed boy huffs and straightens his jacket.

"Where's Jasper?" Clara whispers to Rez. He looks at her like he has seen a ghost and shakes his head, making Clara's nerves sky-rocket.

After assuring that his sister is alright, Bellamy addresses Clarke, Finn, and Monty. "Where's all the food?"

Finn lets out a heavy breath. "We didn't exactly make it to Mount Weather."

Bellamy's face pinches in confusion. "What the hell happened out there?"

Clara doesn't intervene, also wanting to know the answer. If Rez isn't going to tell her, she's going to listen in on what everyone else is saying.

Clarke glances at Rez and Octavia's wounds. "We were attacked."

"Attacked?" Wells repeats incredulously. "By what?"

"Not what, who," Finn replies. The teens mulling around pause their conversations at the bone-chilling words. With everyone's attention on him, Finn explains, "It turns out, when the last man from the ground died on the Ark, he wasn't the last grounder."

Some random kid comments something about them making up stories, and Clarke shoots him down with a glare.

"It's true," she urges. "Everything we thought we knew about the ground is wrong. There are people here, survivors. The good news is, that means we can survive. Radiation won't kill us."

"Yeah, but the bad news is that the Grounders will," Finn admits in a grave tone.

Wells's eyes travel around the group. His brow knots together. "Where's the kid with the goggles?"

Everyone who went on the trip exchanges a look. Out of all of them, Monty looks to be the most affected by whatever that name triggers. Clarke sighs and says carefully, "Jasper was hit. They took him." Her eyes shift down to Wells's bare wrist, the lack of a wristband distracting her. "Where is your wristband?"

Wells scoffs and nods towards Murphy and Bellamy. "Ask them."

Clara flashes back to last night. She glances down at her own wristband, thankful Bellamy hadn't ordered his little minions to cut it off as well.

Clarke turns her attention to Bellamy, asking lowly, "How many?"

Murphy steps forward. Proudly, he answers, "Twenty-four and counting."

"You idiots!" Clarke exclaims. "Life support on the Ark is failing. That's why they brought us down here. They need to know the ground is survivable again, and we need their help against whoever is out there. If you take off your wristbands, you're not just killing them, you're killing us!"

Clara blinks at the new information, trying to process it. She looks at Rez and whispers, "Did you know about this?"

Rez nods.

Bellamy laughs humorlessly. He runs his hand through his messy hair and says, "We're stronger than you think, don't listen to her," he bellows. "She's one of the privileged. If they come down, she'll have it good. How many of you can say the same?"

The delinquents exchange looks, considering Bellamy's words. Despite obviously hiding something,  or maybe it's just obvious to Clara and no one else sees it, Bellamy has a niche for inspiring speeches. His persuasiveness could be a good thing, or he could twist the skill into using it for his own gain. Great leaders aren't always great people. Clara remembers reading about Hitler in her world history class and hopes Bellamy strays away from that type of leader. 

For now, Bellamy keeps his eyes on the delinquents listening closely as he speaks loudly, "We can take care of ourselves. That wristband on your arm? It makes you a prisoner. We are not prisoners anymore! They say they'll forgive your crimes. I say you're not criminals! You're fighters, survivors! The Grounders should worry about us!"

The crowd of teens roars in response. Bellamy watches them proudly, then turns his attention to Clarke staring at him with disgust. He smirks and asks, "Got something to say, Princess?"

Clarke rolls her eyes and turns to Monty, Finn, Clara, and Rez. Monty asks hopelessly, "What do we do now?"

"Now," Clarke replies, glancing back at Bellamy still soaking in his power, "we go find Jasper."

Clarke turns away from the group and marches towards Octavia to make sure her wound is healing. When she leaves, the rest of the group dismantles, Month hanging around anxiously and Wells disappearing into the drop ship. Finn leaves and wanders into the middle of camp for some water. Out of the corner of her eye, Clara notices a look on Rez's face and immediately says, "You're not going this time."

Rez sputters, "Why not?"

"First of all, I'm not letting you die because you want to be a hero," Clara tells him sharply. "Also, you're injured."

"It's my arm, not my leg, C," he whines, trying to convince her to let him go.

Clara stands firm and shakes her head. "It's safer to stay here."

"Well someone has to go help, I think Clarke and Monty are the only ones going!" Rez exclaims, throwing his arms up.

Finishing up tying off the cloth around Octavia's calf, Clarke steps back over with her arms crossed. "Monty's not going."

Monty, who is nervous biting his thumb nail a few yards away, snaps his gaze in their direction. "Like hell I'm not!" Clarke sighs, rubbing her hand down her face tiredly as Monty steps over. His eyes bore into Clarke's, and Clara realizes how broken he is over the fact that Jasper is gone. And she understands completely—if it was Rez that was taken, no one would be able to get in her way from getting him back. "My best friend is out there, of course I'm going."

"You're too important," Clarke insists. "You were raised on Farm Station and recruited by engineering."

Monty, unconvinced, scoffs, "So?"

"So, food and communication. What's up here," Clarke reaches out and taps Monty's head, "is gonna save us all. You figure out how to talk to the Ark and I'll bring Jasper back." When Monty sighs, seemingly giving in, Clarke's eyes flicker to Finn walking behind him. "Hey, Finn, you ready?"

Everyone turns to him. Finn stops like a deer in headlights. "I'm not going anywhere, and neither should any of you. That spear was thrown with pinpoint accuracy from 300 feet."

Rez frowns. "We can't just let Jasper die."

Finn's attention shifts to Rez. "Look, kid," he snaps, "this isn't just a stroll in the woods, it's a suicide mission."

"Spacewalker? What a joke," Clarke mutters, her gaze on Finn sharp. "You think you're such an adventurer. You're really just a coward."

"It's not an adventure," Finn defends himself. "Again, it's a suicide mission." He averts his eyes and trudges away, leaving Clarke with a defeated expression.

Clara glances back at Monty, her heart clenching, and blurts without thinking twice, "I'll go."

Clarke, Monty, and Rez stare at Clara with surprise. She squirms under their attention and clears her throat. Honestly, she wasn't expecting herself to volunteer either. She's about to back out, but then she sees the hope on Monty's face and keeps her mouth shut.

Clarke nods and flashes her a grateful smile. "Okay, so that's two of us so far."

Rez turns to Clara. "Are you freaking crazy?"

Clara shrugs. "A little."

He groans and leans against a tree, but the action causes him to wince. Clara frowns and steps towards him. "Let me see your arm."

He rolls his eyes dramatically. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are," she replies curtly, "but I just want to make sure."

After giving him puppy eyes, Rez gives in and shimmies out of his jacket with Clara's help. He holds out his injured arm and Clara takes it gingerly, unwrapping it with a gossamer touch. The skin under the cloth is red and angry, four deep teeth marks embedded in his pale bicep. There's blood soaking the cloth and smeared on his skin, but the wound seems to be done bleeding. Rez glances up at Clara when her eyes study his wound for what seems like forever.

"Put a new cloth on it to avoid infection," she says quietly, her brow pulled forward in concern.

Rez sighs and drops his arm from her gentle hands. "I'm seriously fine, C. Don't worry about me, okay? It's just a bite from a . . . whatever the heck that thing was."

Clara bites the inside of her cheek before nodding. "Okay. But you should still change your bandages."

"Right, I forgot you were a doctor," Rez says with sarcasm lacing his tone.

"You should listen to . . . Clara, was it?" Clarke intervenes. When the curly-haired girl nods, Clarke continues, "Clara's right, keeping the soiled cloth on it could cause an infection and slow it's healing."

Rez nods, and Clara sends him a look that says told you so.

"Are we leaving soon? Because I'm ready," comes a voice behind the group. Clara turns and watches as Wells joins them with a small smile and a makeshift backpack over his shoulder. He notices Clara's eyes on it and says, "It's made of seat belts and insulation. I also packed part of the parachute, figured we could use it to carry out Jasper."

Clarke's friendly gaze turns cold. "Good. Give it to someone else. You're not coming with us."

Wells frowns and argues, "My ankle's fine."

"It's not your ankle, Wells, it's you," Clarke snaps.

Clara senses the tension and awkwardly backs up. "I'm going to go get some bandages for Rez's arm now, see you in a bit." She grabs Rez's wrist and yanks him from their conversation, the boy stumbling over his own feet. He curses under his breath but manages to keep up.

Her eyes find Bellamy and Octavia. They're sitting by a fire pit, Octavia on a log with one pant leg rolled up past her wound on her thigh as Bellamy kneels in front of her and dabs the wound with a damp cloth. His brow is knitted as he inspects her wound, worry lines creasing his forehead.

Clara lets go of Rez's wrist and goes to step over to the siblings, but her boot catches on a root and she nearly face-plants. Her arms shoot out to catch herself, and she lands in a push-up position directly behind Bellamy. Rez covers his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter.

Bellamy turns his head and looks over his shoulder at the girl lying in the dirt. His eyes dart up at Rez laughing at her before returning to Clara.

"What the hell are you doing on the ground?" He asks flatly.

Clara blows a coil of hair out of her face. "Oh, you know, just enjoying watching these ants."

Octavia snorts.

Clara groans as she pushes herself up to her knees, then to her feet. After her fall, she had Bellamy and Octavia's full attention, and she isn't sure what to do with it. Her cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

"Hello. Do you have some bandages we can borrow?"

"Will this do?" Octavia asks as she leans over and grabs some ripped pieces of cloth, holding them out to Clara.

She smiles warmly and takes the cloth. "Yes, thanks."

Before she and Rez can step away, Octavia pats the spot on the log next to her and smiles up at Rez. He gladly takes a seat next to her and tries to bite back a grin. Clara glances at Bellamy hesitantly before kneeling beside him in front of Rez. He keeps his focus on his sister's wound.

"What the hell was it?" Bellamy asks, breaking the silence.

As Clara wipes off the blood on Rez's arm, Octavia replies, "I don't know. The others said it looked like a giant snake." She hisses in pain as her brother accidentally presses down too hard.

Bellamy spares a glance at Rez, "Did the same thing get you too?"

Rez nods, wincing slightly as Clara wraps his slim bicep. "Yeah, it was something we've never read about in those earth studies books, you know?" His eyes suddenly go wide. "Oh my gosh, we even saw a deer with two freaking heads!"

"That can't be natural," Clara murmurs as she secures his bandage. "Okay, all done."

When Clara gets to her feet, a hand wraps around her wrist. She looks down and follows the hand, which is connected to Bellamy's arm. His eyes are directed at her hand as he takes it and flips it over so her palm is exposed.

"You should probably clean that out and cover it, like I said yesterday," he says, his gaze lifting to meet Clara's.

Confused why he even cares, she takes her hand out of his grip. "It's already scabbed over, it's fine."

Before Bellamy could pester her about it further, Clarke approaches the four with Wells hot on her heels. Bellamy rises to his feet to face her with a raised brow.

"What do you want now, Princess?"

"I'm recruiting more volunteers to go get Jasper, who saved your sister in the river yesterday, by the way," Clarke informs with a headstrong attitude.

Octavia stands as well, but her balance wavers when pain shoots through her body from the injury in her thigh. Rez reaches out and steadies her.

"You guys leaving?" She asks, and before anyone can say anything, she announces, "I'm coming too."

Bellamy turns to his sister and gives her a look. "Are you kidding? No way, not again."

Octavia starts to argue, but Clarke cuts her off before she can utter a word. "He's right. Your leg's just gonna slow us down. I'm here for you." Her last words are directed at Bellamy, who gives her a puzzled look in return.

Wells holds the same expression. "Clarke, what are you doing?"

"I hear you have a gun," Clarke says, ignoring Wells behind her. Bellamy lifts the bottom of his shirt up to expose tan skin and a small handgun tucked into his waistband. Clarke nods firmly. "Good. Follow me."

Without waiting for a response, Clarke spins on her heel and starts to walk away.

Clara glances at Bellamy, who looks back at her with a lost expression. His eyes trail back to Clarke as he calls out, "And why would I do that?"

Clarke stops. Then, with three long strides, she gets in Bellamy's face. "Because you want them to follow you, and right now, they're thinking only one of us is scared." She lets her determined gaze linger on Bellamy before turning and leaving again, this time having no intent to stop.

⋆⋆⋆ᴀ/ɴ ⋆⋆⋆

Hello! I just wanted to pop in and ask how y'all are liking this book so far.

Also, I just got back from a Christian conference in Tennessee. The drive was really long, so I brought some books to read on the way there and on the way back. I recommend reading Neanderthal Opens the Door to the Universe by Preston Norton. It's a really fun read that is also really thought-provoking. Its genres include humor, young adult fiction, and bildungsroman (a novel dealing with one person's formative years or spiritual education).

I hope you all have a great new year in 2020. I pray that you all will grow and God will bless you in this new year. Make it a great one!