Silent Moments: Book One (The 100)

Chapter 6

A sudden scream of agony sliced through the tense silence of the forest, startling us all. Clarke's grip faltered, and the skull she was holding clattered to the ground, its hollow sound echoing ominously.

"Jasper, he's alive," Clarke whispered, disbelief and hope mingling in her voice.

Without a second thought, we sprinted back towards the river, our feet pounding against the earth, hearts racing with a mix of fear and urgency. I caught up with Clarke, urging caution. "Clarke, Clarke, wait. Stay in the trees," I said, my voice strained with concern. As we reached the riverbank, a chilling realization hit us – Jasper was gone. The place where he had lain injured was now empty, an eerie quiet hanging over the scene.

"He was right there," Monty's voice was a hushed whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Where did he go?" Octavia's question hung in the air, her voice tinged with fear.

"They took him," I stated flatly, the grim truth settling in.

The journey back to camp was a somber one, our minds grappling with the reality of survivors on the ground. How could anyone have survived the nuclear apocalypse? The air was supposed to be toxic, yet here we were, breathing it in. Upon reaching the camp, the sight that greeted us was chaotic. Wells and Murphy were locked in a knife fight, their faces twisted in anger. Clarke immediately intervened, her voice cutting through the noise. "Wells, stop it!"

Bellamy's concern for Octavia was evident as he noticed her injury. "Octavia! Are you okay? Where's the food?"

Finn's response was grim. "We didn't make it to Mt. Weather."

Bellamy's frustration was palpable. "What the hell happened out there?"

Clarke's revelation sent a shiver down my spine. "We were attacked," she said, her voice grave.

"Attacked, by what?" Wells' question mirrored the confusion and fear we all felt.

"Not by what, who," I corrected him. "Apparently, the last man from the ground who died on the Ark wasn't the last Grounder."

Clarke added, "Everything we thought we knew about the ground is wrong. There are survivors here. The good news is we can survive; radiation won't kill us."

Finn's words, however, cast a shadow over that silver lining. "The bad news is that the Grounders will."

A heavy silence fell over the camp, broken only by Wells' inquiry. "Where's the kid with the goggles?"

"Jasper was hit. They took him," I said, the weight of the situation heavy in my voice.

My attention turned to Wells, noticing something amiss. "Where's your wristband?" I asked, grasping his wrist.

"Ask him," Wells replied, his glare directed at Bellamy.

Murphy's answer to my next question chilled me to the bone. "Twenty-four and counting."

Clarke's frustration was evident as she admonished the group. "You idiots. Life support on the Ark is failing. That's why they sent us here. If you take off your wristbands, you're killing them and us."

Bellamy's retort was passionate, rallying the camp. "We are not prisoners anymore. The Grounders should worry about us!"

As Clarke walked away, shaking her head in disappointment, Monty and I followed. "What are we going to do now?" Monty asked, concern etching his features.

"Now, we go after Jasper," Clarke declared, her determination unwavering.

Back at the dropship, we prepared for the rescue mission. Wells climbed up to join us, but Clarke was adamant. "You're not going, Wells. It's not your ankle; it's you."

Monty's protest about joining the rescue was met with Clarke's refusal. "You're too important," I added, trying to reason with him. "You figure out how to talk to the Ark, and I'll get Jasper back."

Finn's warning about the dangers we faced was sobering. "It's not an adventure, Clarke. It's a suicide mission."

Ignoring Finn's caution, Clarke, Wells, and I prepared to leave. "Build a wall, use the fallen trees. I'll watch out for her," I said, walking away from Finn, my disappointment in my friend evident in my stride.

Catching up to Clarke and Wells, I saw them approaching Bellamy and Octavia, who were standing in a clearing. The air was thick with the tension of unspoken questions and apprehensions.

"What are you doing, Clarke?" Wells asked, his voice betraying his concern.

"I hear you have a gun," Clarke said, her tone firm and purposeful. It was more of a statement than a question.

Bellamy, with a guarded expression, lifted his shirt to reveal a gun tucked into his pants. The weapon seemed ominous and out of place amidst the wilderness surrounding us.

"Well, follow me," Clarke commanded, turning and walking into the dense forest, her stride determined.

Bellamy, taken aback, challenged her. "Why would I do that?" His skepticism was evident in his narrowed gaze.

"Because you want them to follow you. And right now, they're thinking only one of us is scared," Clarke replied sharply, her eyes meeting his with a challenge.