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— WHEN CLARKE SAID SOMEONE ELSE HAD GOTTEN THERE FIRST, CLEO'S STOMACH DROPPED WITH BETRAYAL. They all knew who had done it and they all shared a knowing look. She felt dumb for believing that he'd stay at camp, but he had done the same thing she did – just with different motives. She turned on her heel and jogged back into the forest, hearing the group do the same thing behind her.
She pushed ahead faster, her legs taking her further from the group. Her eyes dropped down to the ground, trying to find tracks. When she slowed down to bend to the ground, she saw slight imprints in the moist soil. Boot prints that could've either belonged to a grounder, or the man she was trying to catch. It was a gamble she'd have to take.
She began to follow them, jogging slowly until she saw a figure ahead of her. Her heart stilled, not seeing him through the trees fully, but once she saw the familiar head of curly hair, she knew she had found her target.
"Hey!" She called. "Bellamy!"
He ignored her until she reached him, pushing him slightly.
"What the hell is your problem?" She asked, her voice breaking.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he defended himself, hand gripping his ax tighter.
"Bellamy, they're looking for you right now and I can't help you if you don't tell me what you did to it."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." He repeated himself, turning on his heel and walking away from her.
Unfortunately for him, the small group had been a few paces behind Cleo. Bellamy's co-leader approached him.
"Where is it?" She asked, reaching a hand out to stop his stride.
