𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗚𝗢, monty green

Chapter Eight

Clarke stormed out pretty soon after that, followed immediately by Finn and then Wells. Avery looked to Monty and Octavia, still sat in silence, both of whom looked downcast by everyone's attitude on Jasper.

"Well they must be fun at parties." She joked - with very poor timing - and received no response. "You guys too, I guess.."

Avery left to scour the edge of the forest just outside their camp, looking for some good twigs to keep the small fire they had going in the Dropship alive. Clarke had used its flames for heating the blade she was going to use on Jasper, but Monty and Avery were just using it for warmth.

Gathering a few in her hands, she straightened up from where she was crouched at the forest floor. Her eyes drew to a strange yellowy-orange mist drifting towards her, looking captivating yet toxic. 

Something of that colour couldn't be good, right?

But still, Avery found herself creeping slowly towards it, stretching out an empty hand to catch her fingertips in where the mist met the fresh air. As soon as her skin made contact with the strange fog, a searing pain shot through her fingers and up her arm; instantly turning her fingers red and raw.

Tumbling from her lips came a string of curse words in a pained yell. As her eyes began to burn with tears, she stumbled on her feet, retreating towards the camp and her hand dropping the now forgotten twigs in less than a second.

Clutching her injured hand, Avery rushed back into the camp, struggling to hold back a sob. Her breathing was ragged, rapid and shallow and her whole arm felt as though it was on fire.

"Don't touch the fog!" She yelled louder than she ever had before, as she realised people would try the same as she did. "Everyone get inside the Dropship!"

In normal circumstances, no one would've listened to her. She wouldn't have even tried yelling a command. But Avery knew that if someone stayed in that fog, they would die. The fear in her voice showed the urgency easily.

The mist was quickly closing in on the camp, and although most people had listened to Avery - despite being heavily confused - there were a few that stubbornly didn't. When they were engulfed in the orange fog, their screams let everyone else know that they didn't want to follow.

They made Avery feel lucky only her fingers touched the fog.

The girl followed the others towards the Dropship. She scanned across the camp, ensuring no other people were trapped outside, before darting inside and yelling for someone to close up the door.

She had barely spoken when her shout was answered, and more. As well as the front entrance being closed, they boarded up the windows and any loose floorboards, ensuring there were no gaps that the fog could seep in through.

"Monty, my brother's out there."

Avery had found Octavia and Monty exactly where she had left them, both looking beyond confused with whatever was going on around them. The girl made her way over, swallowing the nausea she felt in her throat when she thought about the potential number of bodies they'd find the next day.

"Bellamy's going to be okay," Avery huffed out, between heavy breaths. "We all know he's too headstrong to die that easily."

"He'll be fine." Monty added, somehow doing a much better job of reassuring Octavia in three words. "We'll all be fine."

Monty took the chance to properly look at Avery then, and his hand immediately shot out for her wrist upon seeing her injury. Her fingers had begun to blister and bleed, and they were still causing her a great deal of pain, but she was trying to ignore it.