Sunshine On Earth

Chapter Seven

Shock — Noun — A sudden upsetting or surprising event or experience.

I suppose that's how I felt when Bellamy told me he shot the chancellor. He really does have the guts to kill someone, after all this time I thought I knew him. Even if I still hate him, everyone knows him. They know him as the cocky bastard who does what needs to be done to survive. They know that he'll do anything for his sister because that's who he loves, that he couldn't kill his comrade when he was dying from the fog, that he isn't a killer.

It's not that the chancellor didn't have it coming; he was a complete and utter dick. But he keeps the Ark running, which means everyone stays alive. Even if he did lock me up for years and sent us done to Earth to die, he kept me alive for seventeen years. But sending us off to die like that; that's something I don't think I can ever forgive him for.

"Everyone upstairs! Now! Let's go!" Raven shouts, waving her arms around. Bodies huddle over to the ladder, ready to clear the space. Someone shoving into me snaps me out of the daze. The girl looks horrified for a second. I wave it off as not a big deal, and an obvious sigh of relief escapes her.

"You hear that? You're lucky." Raven strokes hair out of Finn's face as I walk over to the table that he's on. Finn looks pale, and he's sweating out a fever. I place a hand on Raven for reassurance. She gives a thankful look.

"Okay, Clarke, keep a firm grip on the knife. You're gonna need to angle it upward and to the left very slightly," Dr. Griffin's voice echoes through the radio. It's cutting in and out due to the storm outside.

"How very slightly?" Clarke hesitates. She knows that the slightest wrong move could kill Finn.

"Three millimeters," Monty's moonshine sits on the table next to Finn. I grab the container and take several large glugs. The liquid burns all the way down, more than that bottle of whiskey he had a while back.

Clarke grabs the knife with both hands ready to pull it out. As soon as she starts extracting the blade, Finn's eyes pop open and he begins to groan and squirm.

"He's waking up! Hold him down!" Raven grabs Finns shoulders and keeps him straight. I scramble over and grab hold of his legs.

"Finn, I'm going to get that knife out. You have to stay still," Clarke yells, panic evident on her face.

Finn mutters something in response that I don't quite catch. Clarke pulls the blade out carefully following Abby's directions. Suddenly, the drop ship violently shakes, sending everyone to the ground. My head painfully hits something hard. The drop ship stops shaking after a moment, but I lay on the ground, holding my head. A groan passes my lips: it hurts to move. I take several large breaths and gradually start to feel better. When I move my hand, blood covers it. I try to wipe it away with the back of my hand with no avail.

"Everyone okay?" Clarke asks, as her and Raven put Finn back up on the table. She gives a quick one over of Finn to make sure he isn't hurt either.

"Sorta," I groan. She looks over to me and gasps. Blood start to drip over my eye making it harder to see. Clarke passes over a cloth, telling me she'll patch me up after Finn. Several minutes of concentration later, Finn is stitched up with a white bandage covering the gash.

Clarke pushes away my bangs, and dabs an alcohol-soaked cloth over the cut. It stings, but it's not as bad as I expected. She does a neat, quick tape job on my forehead. I run a finger over the tape. A small cut runs above my eyebrow probably a few centimeters long. I refuse a bandage; partly because we're running low, partly because it looks stupid.

An awkward silence sits over us, and before anyone can say anything I leave, going up to the third level. The door is locked from the inside. I pound my fist against the cool metal, ignoring the looks of everyone around me.