ONE OF THE 100

12. Allison Part 1: Cages

This chapter is a twist :) I hope everything has been landing well. THIRD PERSON WOOHOO TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK

Ally's leg bounced up and down in her seat in the dropship. The strong scent of Clarke's pack of antiseptics on the table next to her barely reached her senses. It'd been three days without Shay and Golfe at camp, and the air was tense with anxiety. All anyone could think about was that they just lost two more people.

And while Ally's mind was on the whereabouts of her best friend, the other half of her was waiting for Bellamy to get back with any word.

Clarke droned over to the square counter. She didn't know Ally was hidden on the other side of the corner as she ran her fingers over the different tools. Neither girl knew of the other's presence at first, but then Ally's head dropped into her hands.

Clarke pocketed the little white bottle. "Ally?"

The dirty blonde's face emerged, tearing the blanket of hair in front of her face as she looked up at the sudden blonde before her. "Yeah?" she asked when she realized she wasn't alone, her throat closed.

"How are you doing?" Clarke let her palm fall onto the counter by her side, leaning on her arm for support. She watched the girl's features closely.

"I'm fine."

Ally was a good liar; Clarke would give her that. The words were said with such confidence that if she hadn't known about her and Shay's history, she would easily believe her. "I'm sure she's fine. Just got a little lost." She didn't even bother mentioning Jeremy; anyone with eyes could see Ally didn't like the boy, therefore not caring what predicament he was in.

Ally only nodded. Of course, she wanted to believe Clarke, but she was never an optimist, and things were looking bleak.

"Do you need anything? Water?"

Ally sighed shakily, the breath not 100% making it out of her esophagus. "I need to be out there with them." She gestured with her hand to the opened dropship door, only covered by a lengthy tarp letting in little sunlight.

"I understand how you feel. Shay was my friend, too." Clarke offered a close-mouthed smile, only managing that little. She and Shay weren't close, but they liked each other enough to call them their friend.

Something stirred in Ally's stomach at Clarke's use of the word was. It was a slap in the face to her previous statement and highlighted her true feelings about the situation. She wouldn't call her out on it, though; if Clarke felt she was helping, Ally wouldn't stop her.

Just then, the flap on the dropship was tossed aside. In walked a stocky Bellamy, dressed in black and a rifle held in his hands. He entered the tent alone, but Ally could hear the rest of the search party behind him. His chocolate eyes fell on the girl in the seat, and his broad shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry," was all he could get out.

The green-eyed girl's heart sank in her chest as her throat once again started to close up. Before Bellamy even began to formulate the words, she was already steeling herself. She expected the news the minute she saw his defeated demeanor.

"It's fine," she said. Her green eyes were darker than they usually were as she rose from the chair abruptly.

Bellamy didn't think much of the answer, letting his gaze fall on the black floors beneath him. But Ally's sudden mood change was raising major red flags to Clarke.

"They'll be back by noon," she quickly lied to Ally naively. To even think Ally would be settled by it was awfully telling; of how little she knew about her.