ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ : ᴛʜᴇ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇ
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Back at camp, Clara can't stand the silence. She hates thinking, mostly because it just leads to imagining the horrors Finn, Clarke, and Monty could potentially be going through while she's just sitting there.

It's morning, and Rez is on watch. With Jasper busy making gunpowder and Monty gone, Clara sits with Murphy. He's on his break from making foxholes to refuel and hydrate, and Clara decided that talking with him would be better than being alone with her haunting thoughts.

They're just talking about whatever, nothing too deep, when a gunshot pierces the air. Clara jumps and whips around, eyes wide as she scans the camp for grounders.

She and Murphy exchange a glance before rushing towards the gates.

"What the hell is the matter with you?!" Clara hears Bellamy's angry voice before she steps outside. When she comes up from behind Murphy, she spots Bellamy admonishing a young boy, Sterling, who looks like he hasn't slept a wink in days. His eyes are bloodshot, his under-eyes stamped with dark semi-circles.

Sterling watches Bellamy stand over him with fear. His eyes are wide and he scrambles to stand with the rifle in his hands. "I'm sorry, I-I fell asleep, I've been on watch all day."

"We've all been on watch all day," Bellamy bellows. "That bullet was one less dead grounder."

Octavia walks up from behind her brother, tapping him on the shoulder lightly, half-expecting him to whirl around and shout at her next. "Bell, you're scaring people."

"They should be scared!" Bellamy shouts, turning to address the entire camp. Everyone watches uneasily as their leader bursts out in anger, but what Clara sees isn't anger, it's fright. Behind his tough façade is a scared boy. "The bomb on the bridge bought us some time to prepare, but that time is up! The grounders are out there right now, waiting for us to leave and picking us off one by one when we do!"

Clara stands beside Murphy. She gnaws on her bottom lip as she watches Bellamy explode.

"Clarke, Finn, and Monty are gone, probably dead, and if you want to be next, I can't stop you, but no guns are leaving this camp!" He yells, voice straining. "This camp is the only thing keeping us alive! Get back to work!"

The delinquents quickly obey his orders. They rush to get back to their duties, whether that be building up the wall some more, being on watch, or digging fox holes. Raven quietly continues to make more land mines.

Bellamy turns. His eyes catch Clara standing beside Murphy. Murphy gives Bellamy a sarcastic smile, whereas Clara just averts her eyes and walks back into camp. Bellamy sends Murphy a glare and shoulders past him.

Bellamy finds Clara in the drop ship tending to Myles's wound. She's changing his bandages when he approaches her. Clara ignores him when she feels him stand behind her.

"How is he doing?" He asks, though, admittedly, he doesn't really care at the moment. He just doesn't know what to say to Clara without repeating himself or making things between them worse.

Before Clara can answer, the tarp in front of the drop ship entrance is pushed aside. Jasper strides in, and when he sees Bellamy, he scoffs.

Bellamy sighs and stands back, addressing both Jasper and Clara. "Don't you think I want to go after them, too?"

Jasper stops in his tracks. He stares Bellamy in the eye. "If it was you out there, you think Monty, Clarke, or Finn would hide behind these walls?"

"No, they'd go after me, and then they'd be dead, too," Bellamy retorts. He crosses his arms. "I am doing what I think is right for the group."

Jasper lets out a humorless laughs. "It's funny, you didn't think that way when Octavia went missing."

Having enough of the conversation, Jasper starts up the ladder to the second floor.

Bellamy watches him. "Where are you going?"

"More gunpowder for your minefield," Jasper replies, then adds with heavy sarcasm, "Sir."

Jasper disappears upstairs. Bellamy shakes his head and glances at Clara once more before turning and exiting the drop ship. When he leaves, she is finally able to breathe. She quickly finishes changing Myles's bandages before heading up the ladder to check in with Jasper to see if he needs any help.

Clara finds Jasper over by a table filled with different substances he used to make gunpowder. A concentrated look creases his forehead as he leans over the table to grab a glass jar.

"Need any help?" Clara asks, sliding her hands in her front pockets.

Jasper glances over at her. "Nah, I'm good, but thanks." He pours the gunpowder into the jar and screws the lid shut.

Clara's eyes travel around the room. When they land on the shackles on opposite sides of the room, drops of blood staining the floor, she flashes back to when they were torturing Lincoln. Then, she sees his face when he was liberating her.

Jasper looks back at her from over his shoulder. He studies her for a moment before asking, "Everything okay?"

Clara blinks. "Yeah, just thinking. There's a lot on my mind."

"Tell me about it," Jasper agrees, heaving out a heavy breath. He starts to pour more gunpowder into the jar when the sound of someone struggling downstairs reaches the second level.

Jasper frowns and abandons his task as he walks over to the hatch. Clara stays by the ladder and watches as Jasper climbs down.

"This is for tying the noose that they hung me with," a familiar, cold voice hisses downstairs. Clara doesn't have to see him to know it's Murphy.

Leaning forward slightly, Clara whispers, "What's going on?"

Jasper's only halfway down. He looks up at Clara with wide, frightened eyes, like he just saw a ghost. "He just suffocated Myles," he whispers back.

Clara stares down at Jasper with paralyzing shock. Jasper reaches up to climb back up, but his foot slips and bangs against the metal rungs.

Jasper shoots Clara a look. She immediately ducks out of sight and listens with her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation.

"He stopped breathing," Murphy lies, trying to defend himself. "I was—I was trying to help him."

The sound of Jasper's feet hitting the floor echo through the drop ship. "Murphy, just put the gun down."

Clara's breath hitches. Gun?

Caught red-handed, Murphy says, "He tried to kill me, Jasper. Hey, don't move!"

"Okay, okay," Jasper rushes out. "It's cool."

"No, it's not," Murphy replies with a shaky, uncontrolled voice. "You know what'll happen to me if you tell Bellamy."

"Tell Bellamy what?" Bellamy's muffled voice from a walkie talkie asks.

Clara has never been so happy to hear Bellamy's voice. It assures her that they're not alone, that Murphy isn't going to kill Jasper in cold blood without consequences.

With a dangerously calm voice, Murphy says, "Give me the radio, Jasper."

There's a pause. At first Clara thinks Jasper handed over the radio, but then Jasper shouts, "Murphy has a gun, he killed Myles!"

There's a smack and a clang. Clara jumps back with her heart beating out of her chest. She waits with nervous anticipation, praying Jasper is alright. The sound of him groaning brings a wave of relief over her.

"Murphy, what the hell are you doing?" Bellamy bellows through the radio, and then a loud sound vibrates through the drop ship. Clara recognizes it as the sound of the drop ship door closing.

Terror washes over her as she realizes she's trapped in there with Murphy, who just killed Myles and has a gun pointed at Jasper.

Clara peers over the side of the hatch. She barely catches a glimpse of Murphy tying Jasper, who is bleeding from the temple, to a chair. His head bobs to one shoulder as he winces. Clara balls her hands into fists. She has to do something, she can't just sit there and watch Murphy kill Jasper, too.

"Murphy!" Octavia's strong voice shouts from the other side of the drop ship. "Murphy, if you even touch Jasper, I swear, you're dead!"

Clara watches as Murphy shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. Her eyes slide to Myles on the tablets the corner. A plastic bag is pulled over his head and his chest is still.

Clara gulps and turns back to Murphy and Jasper. As she watches the oblivious boy, Bellamy's voice through the radio crackles, "Murphy, I know you can hear me. All our ammo and food is in the middle level, you know that. You're leaving us vulnerable to an attack. I can't let that happen."

Murphy scoffs. He picks up the radio from the floor and snarks, "Yeah, well, in case you haven't noticed, you're not exactly in control right now."

"Come on, Murphy. You don't want to hurt Jasper, You want to hurt me," comes Bellamy's reply. "So what do you say? How about you trade him for me?"

Clara's blood runs cold at his words. No, she wants to shout. But she can't, she's stuck watching the entire thing unfold helplessly.

Murphy hesitates and grips onto the radio with white knuckles.

"All you have to do is let him go, and I'll take his place," Bellamy continues.

Murphy brings the radio up to his mouth. "How?"

"Simple. You open the door, I walk in, he walks out."

He's delusional, Clara thinks. Murphy is a ticking time-bomb right now, and Bellamy is a trigger. There's no way Bellamy is getting out of this alive if he takes Jasper's spot. But, then again, it's impossible that Murphy can get out of this unscathed. Maybe Bellamy has a plan.

Murphy pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "Just you, Bellamy, unarmed."

"Please let him have a plan," Clara whispers, sitting back and pressing her back against the wall.

"10 seconds, or I'll put one in Jasper's leg," she hears Murphy say. "One . . . two . . . three . . ."

With each passing second, Clara's heart rate increases.

". . . four . . . five . . ."

"I'm here."

Clara whirls around and looks down the hatch. Bellamy stands in the doorway of the drop ship, his hands above his head and his eyes set on Murphy.

Murphy smirks and grabs Jasper by the collar of his jacket, picking him up from the chair and shoving him towards the entrance. He stumbles out. As soon as he exits, Murphy reaches out and pulls the lever to close it once again.

As Clara leans over to watch, Bellamy's eyes dart to where she is peering. She jolts back before he can see her. Her foot knocks into the table and causes the jar of gunpowder to fall off the table. She holds her breath and shoots out her hands.

Thankfully, she catches it before it can shatter against the floor noisily.

After carefully setting it down on the table away from the edge, she peers over the edge of the hatch again. Thankfully, neither Bellamy or Murphy heard.

Murphy points the gun to the floor and fires. Bellamy flinches.

"Do what I said," Murphy orders.

Over the radio, Octavia shouts, "Bellamy? Bellamy! Are you ok?"

Murphy, wearing a smug smirk, says, "You want her to know you're alive?" He tosses three broken seatbelts at Bellamy. "Start tying."

"Bellamy! Do you copy?" Octavia's voice shouts again.

Bellamy reluctantly starts to tie the seatbelts, his glare settled on Murphy the entire time. Clara watches with confusion, not understanding why Murphy is having Bellamy tie the seatbelts together.

After they are tied together. Murphy steps forward and holds the walkie up to Bellamy's face.

"I'm fine, just a misfire," Bellamy speaks calm, too calm, into the radio. "Now stop worrying about me and get back to work, all of you . . . and tell Raven to hurry her ass up."

Murphy brings the radio back to his side and barks, "Alright, that's long enough. Tie those two ends together."

Bellamy obeys. Clara sits back and looks around the second level. There's just gunpowder and rocket fuel.

She hastily looks back at the scene unfolding. Murphy has Bellamy toss the seatbelts over a metal pole hanging from the ceiling. That's when it dawns on her: Murphy wants Bellamy to hang himself. The seatbelt hangs down like a noose, and Bellamy stares at it with no emotions. Under his mask, though, is straight fear.

"What do you want me to say?" Bellamy asks, throwing his hands up and stepping forward. "You want me to apologize? I'm—"

Murphy raises his gun and aims it directly at Bellamy's chest. The older boy immediately stops.

"I'm sorry."

Clara looks back at the room to scan it. She doesn't know what she's looking for—a knife, or maybe a walkie?—but then her eyes land on something in the corner that makes her heart jump.

Murphy looks down and shakes his head, laughing humorlessly. "You got it all wrong, Bellamy. I don't want you to say anything. I want you to feel what I felt, and then . . . " Murphy shrugs with a small, sinister smile playing on his lips. "Then I want you to die."

Clara crawls over to the corner and picks up the rifle. She turns it around and checks the magazine. Two bullets.

Another gunshot from below rings out and echoes through the drop ship. Clara jumps and almost drops the rifle. She clutches it to her chest and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath.

She crawls back over to the hatch. Thankfully, Bellamy isn't hurt. Murphy motions the gun between the noose and Bellamy standing on a stool and says, "Put it over your head."

Bellamy grinds his teeth and grips the seatbelt loop. He shoves his head through. "Happy now?"

Clara cocks the gun and lies down on her stomach and sets the stock against her shoulder. She closes one eye and aims at Murphy's chest. A sick feeling settles in the pit of her stomach at the idea of shooting Murphy, but she has to if she wants Bellamy to walk out of here.

"You're so brave, aren't you?" Murphy taunts Bellamy as he grips the end of the seatbelt rope. He tugs on it lightly, teasing Bellamy's life in his hands. Bellamy stands on the tips of his toes to keep himself from choking with his hands in between the seatbelt and his throat.

Clara takes a deep breath and tries to calm her shaky hands. A bead of sweat rolls down her temple.

"I mean, you came in here thinking you're just gonna turn this whole thing around," Murphy continues, each word full of more venom than the last, "that you were stronger than me, and maybe one of your friends would come and help you."

Murphy pulls on the rope some more. Bellamy's hard glare starts to falter, revealing some fear.

Murphy notices. He tilts his head and asks, "Well, what are you thinking now, Bellamy? Hmm?"

The rifle in Clara's grip kicks back against her shoulder as she presses the trigger. The bang! echoes and a smokey scent fills her senses. 

Her heart stops when her bullet his the floor beside Murphy.

Murphy jumps back and ducks, eyes searching for the source. Bellamy's reaction is the same, although he is restricted to the stool. When his eyes meet Clara's, they widen.

"What the hell!" Murphy shouts as he looks up at spots Clara with a gun. She freezes.

Bellamy tries to get loose, but the noose keeps him still. "Clara!"

Murphy aims his gun at Clara. She throws hers aside and puts her hands up.

Murphy's lips curl dangerously. He glances back at Bellamy and ties the end of the seatbelts to the ladder before climbing them. Clara falls back onto her bottom and scoots away as he nears her. She can faintly hear Bellamy shouting from below.

He rises from the hatch like a predator eyeing its prey. His gun stays aimed at her chest.

"I thought we were friends," Murphy taunts.

Clara clenches her jaw as she looks up at the boy. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, okay," he scoffs. He grabs her bandaged arm, his nails digging into her burned and blistered skin. She cries out as he heaves her to her feet.

"Don't you hurt her, get back here Murphy!"

"Relax, Bellamy," Murphy calls back over his shoulder, his eerie eyes never leaving Clara. "She's the only one who didn't treat me like shit, I'm not going to kill her."

The pain in her arm overtakes her senses. It allows Murphy to easily drag her over to the wall with the seatbelts that they once used to chain Lincoln up when they were torturing him. Murphy wraps the one seatbelt around both of her wrists. It's tight and cuts off her circulation as he ties it off with a malicious grin.

"Murphy, please," Clara begs, looking up at him trough her glistening eyes as she realizes that she failed, Bellamy's going to die and she can't do anything about it. "Please, don't kill him. You are a good person, you don't have to do this."

"You'll forget about him soon enough, don't worry," Murphy replies curtly before turning and heading back to the ladder. He shuts the hatch after climbing back down, leaving Clara alone in the second level.

Clara squeezes her eyes shut and bangs the back of her head against the metal wall. She hears their muffled voices coming from the floor below her, and although she can't make them out, she knows that whatever is happening can't be good. 

Opening her eyes again, Clara desperately tries to get her hands loose. The seatbelt digs into the skin of her wrists as she pulls as hard as she can. When it doesn't give, she lets out an anguished cry.

"Come on!" She pulls again. Still, nothing.

Another gunshot, and then a thump. Clara goes deathly quiet and listens. What sounds like metal-on-metal grinding together vibrates the drop ship. Hope shoots through her chest.

The door is opening.

The hatch door is thrown open. She stands, expecting to see Jasper, Octavia, Rez, Bellamy, Monty, or maybe even Miller, coming up to get her out and to tell her that they stopped Murphy. Her hope escapes her as she watches Murphy himself climb up and lock himself in the second floor with her.

"Shit, shit, shit!" The boy repeats like a mantra, running his hands through his messy hair as he paces.

"What's going on?" Clara asks, brow furrowed. "What are you doing up here?"

Murphy stops pacing and stares at her. His sudden stillness sends chills up her spine.

"The rocket fuel!" He exclaims, eyes lighting up. He spins on his heel and grabs a small jar of the red liquid, along with the last jar of gunpowder.

"That's the last of the gunpowder, what are you doing?" Clara tugs against her restraints. When Murphy sets the two jars up against the far wall, she gasps. "You're going to blow us both up!"

"It's not a lot of fuel, I'm just going to blow a hole in the side of the drop ship," Murphy mutters and picks up the gun Clara had discarded. He checks the mag. One bullet left.

"Murphy!" Bellamy's guttural voice shouts as his fist bangs against the locked hatch door. "Murphy! Don't lay a damn finger on Clara! It's over!"

Murphy rolls his eyes and cocks the gun. He steps over to Clara while pulling out a knife from his pocket. Clara flinches back at the blade, but he moves away from her and cuts through the seatbelt at the end. When it's no longer attached to the wall, he grips onto the end and pulls Clara by her bounded hands closer to him.

The banging on the hatch continues. "There's only one way out of this for you now!"

"You wanna bet?" Murphy lifts the gun and shoots. The bullet cuts through the air and strikes the jars, igniting an explosion that forces Clara against the wall. She winces and falls to the ground, her head smacking against the floor since she can't catch herself with her bound hands.

Murphy falls as well, but he immediately springs back up. He tugs on Clara's restraints like a leash and drags her to the edge of the hole. Her vision swims and she stumbles. Murphy doesn't hesitate to jump out into the woods. Clara barely lands on her feet when she's pulled out of the drop ship.

"Come on, we're getting out of here," Murphy calls back at her as they sprint through the trees. She wants to stop, to struggle against his force, but with her head spinning and her lack of muscles, she knows she'd just be dragged along the ground if she resisted.

Looking over her shoulder, she watches as the drop ship slowly falls out of view. Jasper and Bellamy stand at the edge of the hole in the side, Bellamy's eyes filled with defeat and fear as they meet hers briefly from afar.

Clara turns back and exhales a shaky breath. May we meet again.