Silent Moments: Book One (The 100)

Chapter 23

As I returned to camp, leaving Octavia with Lincoln, I felt a sense of urgency. My first priority was finding Clarke. I spotted her in the midst of a washer-flipping game, sending a metal disc towards a cup filled with Monty's moonshine. I acted quickly, catching the washer mid-air just before it clinked into the cup. The sudden interruption drew Clarke's attention.

She looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and mild inconvenience. "What is it?" she asked, her voice tinged with impatience.

"Let's take a walk," I suggested, my tone serious. Clarke, sensing the gravity of the situation, nodded in agreement.

"Sorry, guys," she muttered to the companions she was playing with. "Something's come up."

As we distanced ourselves from the crowd, Clarke's curiosity got the better of her. "Did something happen?" she inquired, her eyes locked onto mine, seeking answers.

Pulling her aside, I hesitated for a moment before divulging my secret. "I set up a meeting with the Grounders."

Clarke's brows furrowed as she absorbed the revelation. "A meeting? With the Grounders? How did you manage that?" Her questions came rapidly, reflecting her surprise.

"I was with the Grounder we had in the drop ship, Lincoln," I explained.

"You spoke to him?" Clarke's eyes widened, her curiosity growing.

"It's not important," I deflected, knowing that time was of the essence. "If we want a chance at peace—"

"Peace?" Clarke interrupted, her voice skeptical. "Kegan, we can't make peace with people who've shown nothing but hostility."

"What's your alternative, Clarke?" I challenged, my tone firm. "More violence with the Guard and their guns?"

She hesitated, clearly torn. "It might be our only option."

Frustration welled up inside me. "Do you really want a war? I trust Lincoln. We have to try for peace," I pleaded.

"I don't trust him. If we go, we need backup," she insisted, her determination unwavering.

"No guns. That was the condition for this meeting," I asserted firmly.

Clarke finally relented. "Okay, I'll get my pack and meet you at the gate."

Within minutes, Clarke and I were navigating through the dense woods. The moonlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows on our path.

"I hope you're right about this," Clarke remarked as we walked, her voice laced with uncertainty. "But what if it's a trap?"

"I've considered that possibility. But it's Unity Day. I've chosen to have hope," I replied, wincing as I jumped off a small ledge.

Clarke insisted on examining my wound. "You're putting a lot of faith in someone who hurt you," she observed, her concern evident.

"And you're starting to sound like Bellamy," I retorted.

"I'm just trying to keep us alive," she sighed.

"So am I."

The rest of our journey passed in heavy silence. By the time we reached the meeting spot, Octavia was already waiting there.

"So, you're the mastermind behind this," Clarke remarked with a dry tone. "You helped him escape, didn't you?" Clarke accused Octavia, her voice sharp.

"I trust him, Clarke," Octavia replied simply.

Clarke's response dripped with sarcasm. "Trust seems to be a popular theme lately."