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— THE STORM ONLY WORSENED THROUGH THE NIGHT AND BY MORNING, THE RAIN WAS COMING DOWN SO HARD IT STUNG CLEO'S SKIN. She had only been outside for a couple minutes, but she ran back into the dropship soaking wet. Looking back, she reached an arm out to help Octavia carry a canister of Monty's special moonshine.
Her fingers clasped around the slippery metal, gripping as tightly as she could to avoid spilling any of the liquid. They needed it, otherwise, Finn wouldn't last another day.
The dropship was crammed with delinquents, standing or sleeping, sitting or reaching. Bodies were everywhere and the dropship was beginning to feel crowded.
They reached Clarke, who stood in front of a bloody table holding Finn's body. He hadn't regained consciousness since they brought him in and he had only grown paler by the minute.
Cleo handed the blonde one of the canisters and watched her open it up to sniff it. She recoiled almost immediately and raised an eyebrow at the pair.
"Monty's moonshine?" She questioned.
"Pretty sure no germ could survive it," Octavia reasoned, handing her the other canister.
Outside the dropship, a loud boom was heard. The storm was taking over, destroying everything in its path and unfortunately, the hundred were right in the path.
"The storm's getting worse," Clarke commented. "Monroe, close the doors."
"There're still people out there," Cleo responded tiredly. She was exhausted from cramming into the dropship and running in and out whenever Clarke needed something.
"Monty and Jasper still aren't back yet," Octavia said, shooting them a look. "Neither is Bellamy."
Cleo shared a concerned glance with Octavia, noting that her brother had disappeared overnight and hadn't gotten back. He left without saying anything to anyone and as of now, he was as good as dead – especially in this storm.
