Chapter Eleven
There were four of them. One female and three males. Clarke noted their muscular but lean builds. Even without the spears, knives, and bows that they carried, her own trio wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight against these grounders. The blonde willed Bellamy to reach the same conclusion she had and not do anything rash. She knew that he was carrying his pistol, but she also knew that he was down to his last few bullets. She suspected that if he made so much as an attempt to go for the gun that he would find himself on the pointy end of one of the spears.
The female grounder stepped slightly forward. Her gaze was leveled at Clarke. The woman’s hair was long with random twisted braids strewn throughout it. The dark roots matched the nearly black paint that coated the skin around her eyes. The ends of her hair faded into a lighter dirty blonde. The sharp angles of her face combined with the fierce expression she wore made her quite an intimidating figure. When she spoke, her voice was calm and level.
“I am Anya of Trikru. You are Clarke.”
The shock of being called out by name must have shown clearly on the blonde’s face. The woman, Anya, either took that as confirmation or didn’t care to wait for any.
“You and your people have invaded these lands. You have barely managed to survive. You appear to have aged enough summers that you should be proficient in many skills, yet you demonstrate less than most children. You have provoked the Mountain Men.”
Clarke wasn’t sure how she was supposed to respond to the statements being made about herself and her people, or if she was even meant to at all. It seemed that Anya was less than impressed with the group of Ark delinquents, and it was clear that the grounders had been watching them for quite some time. It was foolish of them to think otherwise.
“But you, Clarke, are a fisa. Trained in healing. You are a leader to your people to the best of your ability. You saved the boy who was attacked by the feisbona-kot op. No one has ever survived such a thing before.”
She could only assume that Anya was referring to whatever creature had lodged its stinger into Monty. Clarke’s mind was racing. She didn’t know what to make of suddenly having four grounders standing in front of her, let alone one of them talking directly to her and not even trying to hide the fact that they had been surveilling the group. Surely there was a reason that contact was finally being made. No one had attacked each other yet, so Clarke was hopeful that this interaction could remain peaceful.
“You must come with us now.”
Well, Clarke really hadn’t been expecting that.
Before she could react, Bellamy finally made his move since the grounders had dropped onto the scene. Clarke supposed she should be grateful that it had taken him this long to do something foolish.
The older boy immediately lunged between Clarke and Anya, pushing the blonde backwards. Thankfully Murphy was there to steady her and keep her from completely falling on her ass in front of their new acquaintances.
“Like hell we’re going anywhere with you!”
Bellamy yelled at the same time he tried to pull the pistol from his pants and level it at Anya. The woman didn’t even flinch. Her expression barely moved. If anything she looked rather bored. Two of the male grounders moved in sync with each other almost at the same moment that Bellamy himself had moved. They moved so fast that Clarke barely registered it at all, but a moment later the gun was on the ground and Bellamy was clutching his wrist. Both men had used the broad sides of their spears to apply hard blows. One to the pistol itself and one to Bellamy’s grip. The result had been successful in disarming him and the eldest Blake wisely didn’t make a move to pick up the dropped firearm.
Anya’s gaze remained fixed on Clarke. The woman acted as though Bellamy hadn’t moved or spoken at all.
“You alone will come with us, Clarke, leader of the people from the sky. I must speak to you in private and you must prove yourself worthy. We will return you to your friends at this location before the sun sets tomorrow.” She paused, and then seemed to add almost as an afterthought, “Unharmed of course.”
Bellamy looked ready to start shouting again, but Clarke was faster.
“How do we know that we can trust you?”
Anya’s lips twitched. Clarke wasn’t sure if the woman was fighting a smile or the desire to smack the blonde for insulting her with such a question.
“A show of good faith. Lincoln will remain here with your two men until you have returned. He will keep only his knife; no other weapons. And we will also leave with them furs and proper food for the wait.”
Clarke glanced at the grounder that Anya had indicated as the one called Lincoln. The man was at least the least intimidating of the three men. His face was free of the black paint that coated the other members of the group. Clarke could make out some sort of inked design etched into his dark skin peeking out beneath the furs that he wore on his arms. His expression seemed less guarded and his eyes held a warmth to them that was not present in the others. She supposed it could be counted as a plus that he was not one of the two that had moved to disarm Bellamy.
Anya was still staring at Clarke and the blonde knew it was her move. She figured that it was probably not really much of a choice. Refusal could lead to a fight. The phrasing of the request for her to hear out this offer and prove herself hasn’t really been presented in a way that made it seem like she could say no. Even if Bellamy managed to get the gun back in his hands, there was no way that the three of them stood a chance against the four grounders. They probably wouldn’t stand a chance if it was three versus one. So she couldn’t risk saying no and having things go sideways.
Clarke knew deep down that there was a part of her that didn’t want to say no, and it wasn’t because of the threat of the fight. Something about this offer was drawing her in. Their first real interaction with the grounders, the humans who had been living on the Earth when everyone on the Ark had thought it was impossible. Clarke knew that she should be terrified. These were the same people who had attacked them after all. Anya had blatantly admitted that they had been spying on them as well. But Clarke was itching to find out more about these people. She could only imagine the amazing things they knew about living on the ground.
“Alright, I’ll agree to those terms.”
As soon as she spoke Bellamy spun around to face her, a look of horror on his face.
“Clarke, no! What are you doing?”
“Bellamy, please. You have to trust me.”
His dark eyes bore into hers and she willed him not to fight her on the decision. She held his gaze for a long moment, and once it seemed that he wasn’t going to argue further, Clarke turned to face Anya once more.
“Is there anything you wish for me to leave here with my friends?”
“You may keep your weapons and bring whatever else you wish. Just be sure that you have your healer supplies. You will need them. We will leave now if you are ready.”
Clarke nodded, turning once more to Bellamy. She motioned for Murphy as well and the boy stepped forward from where he had been hanging back behind her for the entire interaction.
“Alright, I will be back tomorrow. Hopefully sooner than later, but before sunset for sure. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t start anything with the grounder who is staying back with you guys. Don’t try to follow us. Don’t go running off back to camp. Just stay here, please. Promise me?”
Clarke knew immediately that she had struck a nerve with her words. She suspected that more than one thing that she had said had been part of one of Bellamy’s half-baked plans from the moment she had agreed to go with Anya.
“Bellamy,” she waited until the older boy was looking her in the eyes once more, “I need you to trust me. I am going to be coming back. I know that you’re worried. I know that everyone at the camp is going to be worried. I know that this was not how we expected today to go. But please, Bell, trust me.”
“I do trust you, Clarke. It’s them I don’t trust.”
“Just promise me you’ll do what I said.”
Bellamy huffed and didn’t answer. It was Murphy who spoke up.
“We promise. I will tie Blake to a tree myself if I have to. I’m sure I can get that nice grounder fella to help if need be.”
There was an odd coughing noise to their left and Clarke turned to see Lincoln hastily turning away, but she swore she caught the edge of a grin before his face was out of her view.
Murphy was smirking and Bellamy looked ready to punch him when Clarke turned back to face the pair. She figured that was probably as much reassurance as she was going to get from them, that they would behave while she was gone. While Clarke had been happy to have each of them with her initially for the intended mission that they had set out on, it now was backfiring on her slightly. Of all the pairs of people that she could have chosen to leave alone together, let alone with a grounder, Bellamy and Murphy would have been her last pick. But it was too late now, so she just had to hope that they wouldn’t murder each other or do something that would give the grounder reasonable cause to murder them.
Clarke caught both boys off guard when she wrapped an arm around each of them at once. The impromptu hug was over before either of them had time to react. She stepped back and turned away from them, walking up to where Anya and the two remaining grounder men waited.
“Alright, I’m ready. But I have to warn you, I don’t know where we’re going, but I know you all normally travel by treetop and I definitely cannot do that.”
It seemed Clarke finally had said something that caused the serious facade to crack. The grounder male to Anya’s right let out a low chuckle and Anya herself rolled her eyes before turning her head to let out three short but loud whistles. For a moment nothing happened, but then Clarke heard an odd, thundering sound that seemed to be drawing closer.
Suddenly four creatures burst forth from between the trees. Clarke gasped. She had seen pictures in books up on the Ark, but she had never imagined that she would ever see a real, living horse.
The two male grounders immediately swung themselves onto the backs of the two horses that had stopped closest to them. Lincoln had moved to claim the animal that was clearly his and was pulling furs and bundles of what must have been the promised food from bags that were hanging off the horse’s side. Anya mounted her own animal and motioned Clarke over.
“You will ride with me.”
“Um, what?”
Anya just sighed and looked over Clarke’s head from where she sat atop her horse.
“Lincoln?”
Before the blonde could turn or formulate an argument as to why this was a bad idea, because really this was clearly a bad idea and no different than asking her to run through treetops, Lincoln was behind her.
The man placed a hand on each side of her hips and lifted. His grip was gentle but firm, and he lifted her as though she weighed no more than a feather. The next thing Clarke knew she was seated behind Anya on the back of the horse.
“I suggest that you wrap your arms around my waist, Clarke. Falling from a horse is something that hurts enough that most only make the mistake once.”
That was all the warning she was given. Anya thrust her heels into the sides of the animal and made some sort of noise. The next thing Clarke knew they were flying through the forest. She threw her arms around the grounder woman. In any other circumstance Clarke would feel very uncomfortable being in such close proximity to a complete stranger, especially one that she wasn’t convinced wouldn’t kill her. But fear of flying off the back of the horse and breaking every bone in her body had her clinging to Anya with all the strength she could muster.
The speed at which the horses weaved between the trees was incredible. Clarke knew that it would be impossible for her to find her way back to the site where they left Bellemy, Murphy and Lincoln on her own. In the span of minutes it seemed that they had covered more ground than her trio had trekked all day. If it weren’t for the gut-churning terror of falling mixed with the awkward fear that she was clenching Anya’s solid abdomen too tightly, Clarke would probably consider riding a horse quite enjoyable.
She wasn’t sure how long they rode for, but eventually the trees around them began to thin slightly. Then suddenly the horses emerged onto what was clearly a path that was headed westward from what Clarke could judge. The blonde was tempted to lean sideways to get a better look because really ‘path’ was almost putting it too mildly. The well worn trail that the party was now traveling down seemed to have been intentionally cleared rather than just an area that was stomped down from excessive use. It seemed to Clarke that this must be a main route for the grounders and it had her mind spinning. The Ark must not have landed too close to areas frequented by the local population. Afterall, none of the deliquents had reported seeing such obvious pathways.
They had been following the path for what Clarke estimated was at least half an hour. She was debating trying to strike up a conversation with Anya, but didn’t know what to say. Somehow she didn’t think that ‘are we there yet?’ would go over very well with the grounder woman in front of her. Before Clarke could figure out a good ice-breaker, the horses came around a bend and slowed. The blonde’s jaw dropped.
The village was huge. The path that the horses were on broke off into many that led to different structures. Buildings Clarke realized. Homes and places of work. Made from stone and the earth. Complete with doors and windows. Most clearly had fires burning in them and a way for the smoke to vent out the top. There were people everywhere. Children were running around. Clarke was in complete shock. The grounders weren’t just surviving, they were thriving as a full-on civilization.
A loud clearing of a throat brought Clarke back to the present from her gawking. The horses had come to a stop and the other two grounders had already dismounted. Clarke realized she was still sitting there clutching tightly to Anya. She quickly released her grip on the woman. As soon as the blonde let go Anya gracefully slipped off the horse. She immediately turned and gave no warning before lifting Clarke back down to the ground as well. She did so with the same ease Lincoln had displayed in putting Clarke onto the beast's back.
“Welcome to Tondisi. Chief Indra will greet you formally after you have proven your worth. Come, the healer’s hut is this way. Niko is waiting.”
Anya turned and began walking without looking back. Clarke hesitated a split second trying to process everything that was just shared with her in a very matter-of-fact manner before hurrying to follow after the grounder who apparently wasn’t in charge. The blonde’s mind was spinning. Who was this Chief Indra? And what exactly was all involved in proving one’s worth by grounder standards? Clarke has gotten a vibe from Anya that she was a leader of sorts among the grounders. Tree-Crew is what she had called herself. But now they were in a place called Tondc. Maybe there were just different territories and this village was Indra’s? Clarke tried to sort it all out in her head and bit her tongue to keep any of her questions from bursting forth. Anya was keeping a few paces ahead of her and had yet to look back, seemingly trusting that the blonde wouldn’t be stupid enough to not follow. She wasn’t exactly inviting an open conversation.
They came to a stop outside a nondescript building. Anya turned back to face Clarke who subsequently took a staggering step back. The taller woman had been relatively mild in their interactions thus far. Her words may have left little room for argument leading any surface request to truly be a demand, but overall the persona and delivery up until this moment could have been described as almost bored. Clarke was wholly unprepared for the fierce glare of a trained and clearly deadly warrior that greeted her.
“If you so much as make a move to harm her, I will slit your throat so fast that you won’t have time to process that your fight is ending before it is over. Is that clear?”
Clarke could only nod in response, her voice stuck in her throat. Apparently that was enough for Anya who only glared at her a moment longer before turning to push open the door to the hut. Clarke followed her inside and was immediately engulfed in warmth. She hadn’t realized how cold she was until the feeling of truly heated, insulated air surrounded her. The frigid temperature outside was a stark contrast to the comfortable atmosphere inside, and Clarke quickly closed the door behind her to prevent any cool drafts from entering.
Turning around, Clarke took a moment to take in the space she now found herself in. The building was clearly a place of healing as Anya had said. There were a number of cots evenly spaced throughout the room. Shelves lined the walls and were filled with all sorts of herbs and liquids that the blonde couldn’t begin to imagine the uses of. Next to the blazing fire was a rack of different sized blades, and Clarke quickly connected the dots on their use being for cauterizing wounds. Her scanning of the area came to a halt as she registered that Anya had moved to stand next to one of the cots that was occupied. There was another grounder sitting next to it, a man with braids in his beard and an intricate tattoo on his face. But Clarke only registered his appearance and presence without much thought as her full attention fell to the young girl laying between the two adults.
The girl couldn’t have been more than 12. Her hair was filled with many braids as was the apparent style of the grounders. Despite clearly being so young, the skin that Clarke could see was littered with scars, bruises, and fresh scraps. It was clear that the girl had seen her fair share of fights, and both the protective and medical side of Clarke had her brow furrowing at the thought of someone so young being a part of any sort of brutality. She knew that it wasn’t her place to judge however, as the grounders clearly had their own culture and ways. And the literal village she’d just entered was evidence enough that whatever traditions they’d developed had allowed them to not only survive, but become an actual civilization on the ground that everyone on the Ark assumed to be uninhabitable.
Without realizing it, Clarke had moved to stand at the end of the cot. She took in the girl more closely and realized that her breathing was labored and a sheen of sweat was covering her skin. The blonde finally lifted her gaze to meet Anya’s, a question of what happened on the tip of her tongue, but the woman seemed to be a fan of speaking before being spoken to.
“This is Tris. She was one of the warriors who have been watching your camp since you fell from the sky onto our lands. She was there the night that the Maunon attacked your group with explosions and posioned air. The blast knocked her from the unseen place in the trees that she had been. Her strength, bravery, and intelligence allowed her to climb to safety and remain hidden even while injured. We have treated the injuries that we can see, yet she continues to decline. You will heal her. You will prove yourself. If not, her death will also be the death of you and your people.”
Clarke felt her jaw drop as her mind reeled with all that Anya had just said. It was the most that the woman had spoken since dropping out of the trees, and there was a lot to unpack in the few sentences. She wanted to immediately protest to the threat at the end, but Clarke closed her still gaping mouth and ground her teeth together to keep the words in. There was no way that she would be able to find the right words to argue with Anya. It was clear that just as much as Clarke coming here hadn’t really been much of a choice, neither was the ultimatum that was just put forth. Instead she chose to focus on the other information shared.
A blast injury. Presumably a fall from a tree. Continued exertion afterwards in order to escape detection and return to the village. It was hard to say what injuries may still be causing such distress to the girl before her, and without all the advanced equipment available on the Ark, Clarke was going to have to use what she knew, what she could guess, and what more information she could get from the two grounders before her. She assumed that the man, Nyko had been what Anya called him, was the healer. Nodding more to herself than to Anya’s words, Clarke moved to kneel next to the cot across from the man.
“Hi, I’m Clarke. You’re Nyko?”
The man met her gaze, eyebrows raised, but nodded.
“And you’re the healer who has been helping to treat her so far?”
“Yes. I have treated any open cuts, put her shoulder back into place, and administered the medicine used to relieve fevers. Her ribs are bruised but the skin remains intact. There is no puncture injury. Yet her breathing grows more difficult and her temperature continues to rise.”
Clarke nodded at everything Nyko shared. Despite the whirlwind of a situation that she’d found herself in and the pressure placed on her to help, she found it all too easy to slip into her role as a medic. No matter what else was going on, there was a young girl laying before her that needed her help.
“Can you please allow me to see the bruising on her ribs?”
Normally Clarke would have just moved on her own to remove any clothing obstructing potential injuries, but she was cautious of not making a move to upset either of the grounders next to her, especially Anya. The blonde had noted how the woman’s voice had almost softened and swelled with pride at the same time when describing how Tris had survived being caught up in the attack on the camp. It was clear that the girl meant something to her and Clarke wasn’t about to unintentionally upset the person who’d just threatened the lives of everyone Clarke cared about.
Nyko nodded and pulled back the furs that were covering Tris. She had only a thin scrap of cloth loosely wrapped to cover her chest. Clarke took in the dark patterns on her ribs over where her right lung would sit. Immediately she felt that she had a pretty good idea of what had happened. Looking up at Anya, she started her mission of getting as much information as she could from the woman.
“You said that she was near where one of the explosions happened. How close was she, and when she fell do you know if she hit this part of her body?”
“She was in a tree directly over where one of the blasts went off. High up, using her light weight and skills as a warrior to watch from farther up than any of you Sky People ever look. I do not know if she sustained a direct hit from anything. She has not regained consciousness since returning here.”
Clarke nodded and returned her gaze to Tris but spoke to Nyko.
“Do you have any instruments that allow you to listen inside of the body to breathing and heartbeat?”
Nyko shook his head and his face betrayed the confusion her question caused. Clearly most of the old world tools that had been used in the practice of medicine had not survived as well as people had. Clarke felt her bottom lip snag between her teeth as she racked her brain. Perhaps she would be able to hear if there was damage to the girl’s lung just by laying her ear against her chest. She had already assessed that the labored breaths the girl struggled with weren’t causing an even rise and fall. Clarke didn’t allow her worry to show on her face, but she knew that if she could actually determine that no air was moving into the right lung things would be bad. Not untreatable, but bad. She had hoped that the grounders had a stethoscope and had already ruled out what Clarke suspected the injury to be, but it looked like she was going to have to be the one to share the news.
Carefully and slowly, Clarke leaned forward and pressed her ear gently to the bruised ribs of the girl before her. She closed her eyes and stilled her own breathing for a moment in order to hone her hearing as best as she could. Neither Nyko or Anya said anything of her actions and for that Clarke was grateful. It seemed they were willing to let her act as the healer they wanted her to be without stopping to question her every move. After a moment longer, Clarke straightened back up.
“The lung on this side of her body has sustained an injury. Either the blast, her fall, or most likely both caused the lung to stop being able to bring in air. This type of injury is internal, so aside from the bruising you see, there are no other marks to show that it is there. When I listened to her chest that is how I knew what the problem is. If you press your ear to her left side, you will hear the air moving in her body. But on the right side you won’t hear it.”
Nyko immediately but carefully moved to test out what Clarke had just shared. The young medic silently high-fived herself for choosing to explain the injury how she had, hoping that if Nyko could understand what she’d found it would make convincing Anya to allow her to perform the necessary treatment a little bit easier.
Straightening back up, Nyko’s eyes were wide. His gaze jumped to Anya’s just long enough to give a subtle nod confirming what Clarke had shared before it came back to meet her own. The openness and curiosity that Clarke found in his eyes almost had her smiling. It was clear that he was intrigued to learn more about this injury and how to treat it. She just hoped that he remained so as she braced herself to explain.
“We need to help get air back into that lunch. To inflate it. In order to do so I will need a sharp knife and some kind of hollow but rigid tube.” Turning to meet Anya’s eyes Clarke continued, “You saw me save my friend Monty in the forest when he had been stung. I used a small tube in his neck to help air get in when his throat had closed from the poison. I need something like that. Instead of Tris’s throat, I will put it in her side where her lung is. It will help her just like it helped him.”
Anya’s eyes narrowed further at Clarke’s words. It was clear that she did not like the idea of the blonde cutting into Tris and sticking a tube in her. But after a tense moment of silence she nodded once and then walked out of the hut. Clarke assumed she was going to get the supplies that were asked for. Turning back to Nyko, she explained further what was going to happen and what was needed.
“Once we get the air back into her lungs she will be able to breathe better. That is the first and most important step, but not the only one. This fever that she’s had, you said it has not gotten better even with medicine?”
“Correct. I have given her as much as I can without risking causing more harm. It does nothing to help. There does not seem to be any poison, but if there is, I don’t know the antidote to help.”
Clarke nodded. It made sense that poison would be the most likely cause for an untouchable fever that their healers would come up with. But unfortunately Clarke had another thought. Up on the Ark there wasn’t much opportunity to train on healing poisons, but she did have experience in seeing what can happen when someone starts to go into septic shock. It wasn’t good, more often than not it was deadly, but she hoped that with Tris it could be caught in time to be treated.
“I don’t think it’s poison. When the human body suffers an extreme trauma, sometimes things can go wrong inside just as much as outside. When it’s really bad, the blood in the body actually becomes sick, almost like its own poison. The organs in the body start to shut down. If it isn’t fixed in time, a person can die from this even when all their other injuries have been treated. I think that’s what is happening to Tris.”
“How will you fix it?”
The simple phrasing of the question, said with such certainty that Clarke could fix it, settled her mind much more than she thought it would. It seemed that Nyko was both eager to learn and for Clarke to succeed in her challenge.
“We’re going to need to give her fresh blood. Do your people ever do transfusions?”
“I do not know what that means. How do you give someone fresh blood?”
Clarke stopped herself from sighing aloud, knowing that it wouldn’t make having to explain this process any easier. She was certain that once Anya returned and learned that the tube thrust into the girl’s side was just part one of new medical practices that Clarke had planned things would be difficult enough.
As if her thoughts had summoned the woman, Anya returned before Clarke had a chance to answer Nyko’s question. She held a hollowed length of metal, almost like a straw, out for Clarke to take. Examining the piece carefully, Clarke nodded and turned back to Nyko.
“Lets get this part taken care of first and then I will explain the process for the infection and the tools I will need.”
Nyko nodded and held up a bottle and knife that he’d pulled from a shelf.
“We use this to clean wounds and the equipment that we treat wounds with. This knife is freshly sharpened. Both are at your disposal.”
Giving the man a small smile in thanks, Clarke took the bottle first. She poured the liquid inside over her hands, the metal tube, and Tris’s side. Then she took the offered knife and coated it as well. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves and silently thanking her hands for not shaking, she carefully counted the spaces between ribs to find the the right spot to make the incision. Once she had it, Clarke pressed the knife into the young girl’s skin and made a small but deeper cut. Thankfully Tris was too out of it to react in her unconscious and fever-ridden state. Moving quickly, Clarke carefully inserted the tube and adjusted its position until the sound of airflow suddenly spilled into the tense room. Looking up for the first time she took in the look of awe on Nyko’s face and anxiety mixed with hope on Anya’s.
Nodding to both of them, Clarke took the clean cloth that Nyko offered her and wiped away the extra blood that her incision had caused. With the lung reinflated, Tris was able to breathe easier, but Clarke knew that they were far from out of the woods.
“Okay. This next part, I know that you’re going to have a lot of questions about. I will be happy to answer all of them, but after. It’s crucial to Tris that we move quickly. You’re not going to understand what I’m doing and you’re going to like it even less, but you trusted me to heal her so I’m going to need you to let me.”
Clarke chewed the inside of her lip. She knew that her words could very likely backfire. While she hoped that they would help to settle everyone’s nerves over what was coming, she also knew that they were rather assertive given the fact that she was a prisoner in all but name at the moment. But she had to make it clear where things stood at that moment and how much time mattered if she was going to be able to get through the next stage of treatment without disruption. So the blonde nervously chewed at her lip but kept her expression as calm and sure as she could as she met Anya’s gaze once again.
After a moment of tense silence, the woman finally nodded and gestured for Clarke to do what she must. Releasing the breath she hadn’t realized that she’d been holding, Clarke started to rattle off instructions on what she would need and what she was going to do.
“Alright, so like I told you before Nyko, we need to get Tris fresh blood. It will help her body to clean her own blood and fight off the infection that she has. If you have any medicines that you use for infections that she can take, that also wouldn’t be a bad idea. In order to get her the clean blood we will have to take it from one person and put it into her. Now, normally I would want to find someone who I know is the same blood type as her, but since we don’t have the equipment necessary to do that, I’m going to give her my blood.”
Clarke could feel Anya move next to her and knew the next words out of the woman’s mouth would certainly be ones of anger and objection. So rather than let her get them out, Clarke hurried on in order to beat the woman to speaking for once.
“I am a universal donor. Everyone from the Ark is. Our blood is safe to be given to anyone else, no matter what their blood type is. If I don’t give her mine and instead use that of one of your people and it’s the wrong type, she will die.”
It seemed that Anya still wanted to argue, but Clarke’s words were hard to fight against when the entire concept of what she was describing was foreign and the threat of death was very real. After another few moments of silence in which Nyko and Anya seemed to have a silent conversation, the woman finally seemed to concede the point.
“What tools will you be needing to administer this treatment?”
“My medkit has most of what I’ll need. The only thing missing is more tubing. This time I need it to be longer and still sturdy but flexible instead of rigid if possible.”
Anya didn’t move to leave this time, her facial expression revealing that she was clearly contemplating, probably trying to figure out what would meet the specifications that Clarke had given. It was Nyko who jumped up. He moved across the room and ducked behind a hanging piece of fur that Clarke guessed probably blocked the entrance to another room. Some shuffling could be heard and then he returned a few moments later holding something. As he settled back down across from Clarke, he unwound the item in his hand to reveal a length of tubing. It seemed to have probably been from some appliance from before the bombs fell. It definitely wasn’t medical, but it also was better suited for what was needed than Clarke had hoped to be given. She couldn’t stop the grin that stretched across her face as she nodded to confirm that it would work.
“That’s perfect! Alright, so I’m going to explain this as I go, Nyko. I need you to pay attention and ask questions if there’s something you don’t follow because once this process starts and I am giving Tris my blood, I won’t be able to assist as much.”
“I shall do as you ask, fisa Clarke.”
Not quite sure what the word before her name meant but gauging it to not be an insult based on the sincerity and almost respect with which Nyko spoke, Clarke nodded and began to explain and work at the same time. The words flowed almost as easily as they had done during her one first-aid class that she’d been able to give some of the deliquents. Medicine had always been a happy place for her, and she just hoped that it would be able to remain as such. There was no way of knowing for sure how long Tris had been going into septic shock, and while Clarke was confident that this method of treatment was the best and only option, she couldn’t be sure if it would work. Should the infection be too far along, no amount of fresh blood or antibiotics would be able to undo the internal damage. She just had to hope that this would all work out for the best.
The pull that Clarke had always felt for the earth and that had grown since she had stepped foot on the ground was so strong that, even now as she worked diligently to save a young girl’s life in order to save the lives of herself and her people, Clarke couldn’t help but feel that things would be okay. For all the pain, fear, and uncertainty that she’d faced since the Ark had sent her down with the rest to die, she also had never felt such a rightness as she did on the ground. She had to save Tris because it would be far too cruel to end up dead after finally accepting that earth felt more like home than the Ark ever did.
Feeling her resolve settle deep within her soul, Clarke guided Nyko through the process of transfusing blood from one patient to another. Once both she and Tris were properly hooked up to the makeshift equipment she’d pulled together and she’d explained to Nyko when to stop the treatment, Clarke settled into explaining other times that this sort of treatment could be helpful. Nyko was full of questions and she answered each of them to the best of her ability. She also was able to ask some of her own and learn about the different methods of healing that the grounders had been able to develop and use. At some point Anya left the hut and then returned a short time later. It seemed that she too had been paying attention to some of what Clarke had been sharing even though her gaze hadn’t left Tris. She handed Clarke a cup filled with water and a plate filled with more food than Clarke had seen in her entire life. The smell alone had her mouth watering and she nodded her thanks to the older woman, knowing that she needed to heed her own advice and nourish her body that was beginning to feel the effects of giving blood.
At time, Nyko carefully moved forward to remove the hollowed needles in both Tris and Clarke’s arms. He bandaged both before moving to pour some medicine, water, and light broth into Tris’s mouth. The girl’s breathing was even and as Clarke’s eyes slowly slipped closed as exhaustion, post-adrenline rush, and blood loss overcame her, she was left with the image of Nyko’s smile as he felt Tris’s forehead and signaled to Anya that her fever had indeed come down.