Chapter 45
''Since I'm not a mechanic, I'm not touching those again until Reyes comes back,'' Kyle Wick liftsed up his hands in retreat, ''I could literally build the Ark from scratch right now and that woman would find faults with it.''
''Well, the radios are her baby,'' I laugh, ''Better wait for her.''
''Then what? We call them, tell them very sternly to let our friends go as we shake a threatening finger?''
''I don't know. They'll come back with a plan,'' I sigh desperately, ''I still say we should have tried to contact the other stations. I'm sure there's survivors out there. Numbers that could help us.''
''Well, it was either that or the ability to listen in on the assholes, so... tough call.''
''I know,'' I almost curse, ''Abby and Kane won't be back in at least another four or five days and if I could just get Byrne to let us scout and try-''
''Hey,'' Kyle warns with raised eyebrows and a finger, ''You know they wouldn't allow that.''
''We're in truce now, aren't we? We should get out there, try to find the other survivors-''
''I'm not killing the power for you again,'' he grumbles, getting back to his drawings and designs.
''If I convince Byrne, you won't have to.''
''Yeah,'' he chuckles, ''Good luck with that.''
*
''Seargent Byrne,'' I call - though I hate titles, I really want her on my good side, ''I've got something that might be of interest to you.''
That seems to snatch the blonde woman's attention, her eyes leaving the treeline and meeting mine.
''What is it?'' she frowns, but then figures we could use some privacy as she leads me to the bar area without a word. We sit down, and I pull out a dirty, old map.
''What is that?''
''Prognosis,'' I admit, ''I've already been to a couple of sites. I found no survivors. But,'' I straighten it against the table, ''Rand- A friend - did some scouting for me and helped me estimate where the stations could have fallen, and this,'' I point, ''This place is a two days travel from here tops, if you know your way around.''
''What makes you believe there's survivors there?''
''I don't know, but it's worth a check,'' I plead, ''Since that beacon, we've sent no signals. We've showed no signs that could have differentiated us from the Grounders. The survivors - if there are any out there - may have seen smoke from the fires or heard people, but there was no way they could have known it's us-''
''Parish Natasha, right?'' - I nod - ''I remember you. You're one tough girl, I'll give you that. But there's no way I'm going to allow a kid to go on a one woman mission days long, in the deep forest infested with God knows what, to a destination you're not even sure of. I cannot take that authority, and I cannot answer to your parents.''
''Parent,'' I correct, ''You wouldn't have to worry about my father since I no longer need his permission,'' I say. In truth, I will turn eighteen and be legal in another month if my calculations are right, but I've already gone through rites of passage far more significant than a law of age. Not that it matters now.
''But that's what I've been meaning to talk to you about,'' I keep on, ''It wouldn't be a one woman mission.''
''If you suggest I spare the men in these times-''
''Exactly in these times!'' I jump in, ''We've formed a truce with the Tri Kru, they pose no danger to us out there now that we're under Lexa's protection. And you wouldn't even have to spare more than a couple of men! Byrne, we could come back thrice our number.''
She pauses at that, as though considering it for the first time. I continue, wanting to use that moment.
''More people. More guards. More guns,'' I plead, ''I think it's worth the risks.''
''Even if I were to spare a small group,'' she starts, ''How do I justify sending you back out there? This is no longer your little chaos party, we can't keep sending you back out there with weapons in hand pretending-''
''We are not kids,'' I growl, voice low, slapping the metal table with my palm, ''Not since the moment we stepped foot on this planet. What we've done to survive - there is no way in hell you know what you're doing out here better than we do.''
''Mind yourself,'' warns Byrne.
''Look, I'm just trying to do good work,'' I say, more kindly, ''There's gotta be people out there, our people. People that we need and that need us. And if there is one person in this camp that knows their way around those woods, you can be sure it's me.''
Another pause, but now it's obvious that she's mulling it over. The prospect of more guards and more guns even if it's just a handful has to be beyond tempting to her.
''I can't spare more than three men,'' she shakes her head, like she hates herself for even considering.
''More than enough,'' I insist, ''I'll take Monroe, she's great with a gun-''
''That's five people,'' she continues, ''If you're not back in a few days, preferably before the Chancellor is back, I'm afraid there will be no rescue team sent after you. I need to know that you understand the risks.''
''I do,'' I nod, ''But I need you to focus on the possible gains instead.''
She gives a short, stern nod. ''It will be noon soon, you're losing time. You should leave as soon as possible. Meet me at the gate when you're ready.''
*
Dad looked like he didn't like the idea of my setting off, but he didn't say anything against it, knowing there wasn't really anything to be said. He knows I'm doing the right thing, he just wishes someone else would do the fetching. Either way it was a humble ''take care'' and ''be back soon'' instead of any sort of goodbyes.
It takes a bit over two days of travel with very, very little rest to get to the designated spot. The three guards - whose names I learned to be Jonas, Ringer and Dwyght - have had no pretense of bossing us two ''kids'' around the way I half expected them to. Apparently, Byrne has told them to follow my lead, which means she really knows I'm the one who knows how to get around these woods best. She trusts me. Monroe, on the other hand, is still a bit jittery out here among the trees, truce or no truce. I told her the only thing she should be worried about are Reapers maybe, and instead of comforting it came out as a warning, so I made it worse. I told her Reapers never come this far out west too, since no one likes the mere sound of them. Creeped out or not, no one has showed it much. Everyone's handled themselves well enough for the entirety of the trek.
Since nights are longer now, we can't afford to lose time or let it stop us, so we keep on with torches in hand even when every instinct tells us we should be sleeping instead. There have been suggestions, but I press on, and they obey. Monroe's complained, but I would rather have them all hate me for the duration of the trip than lose precious time and risk getting back way after the Tondc escort. So we keep on.
Our trek is almost surprisingly uneventful - after everything we've all been through, safety feels downright weird. We don't seem to have any troubles with the wildlife either, which is a relief as far as circumstances go. Some type of radiated insect the size of my hand that resembled a scorpion a whole lot is the most dangerous thing we've encountered. The rest seem to scurry away from us instead. A good thing, that. Precious time.
Finding the best path proves to be more difficult than I thought, and when we've seemingly gotten closest to our destination, for a moment there I really think we're lost. It's more of a whole hour than a moment, really - an hour of pure panic suppressed so as to not alarm the rest. Dawn is still a way off, and I've been so sure we're on the right path, but now the trees all look the same, and I've lost all sense of direction, and I can't even differentiate the top of Mount Weather from the rest, and fuck, we could die here.
I dare not say it though. Under the light of the torches I keep scanning the map, keep trying to find the right way through the trees. My heart is beating faster, but I can't let them know and let them panic too. They've all given their own suggestions for our next move, but none of them make sense, everyone's said something different, and God damn it I am the one actually experienced, and if I don't figure out a way ahead, no one will, and their lives will be on my hands. But I can't panic. Focus. Read. Scan. Think. Calculate. Find higher ground. Go around in circles. Read again. Scan again. Think harder. Figure it out. We will not die here.
When I finally do ''figure it out'', it's half-sureness half-prayer. And a curse at the additional time it's taken me. ''You sure this is the right way, Parish?'' Dwyght - the bear of a man - asks. He's so tall and burly even his shadow dwarfs me. Even in darkness, his white teeth shine in contrast to his dark skin. He has a kind face that makes me very comfortable and glad he's with us. ''Pretty sure,'' I tell him, and hope to God I'm right.
But we do make it. With the first cracks of dawn, we reach our hillside, and I thank God silently at the sight of it, as relief shoots through me. This is where we're supposed to be. It's still dark so it's hard to see, but the Ark remnants should be somewhere around here. Maybe on the other side? It's a pretty steep climb, how much time would it take us to go around the hill? It looks like it covers a vast patch of ground, as far as we can see. We don't seem to have a choice though, so I decide we should go west, following the edge of it. I keep looking harder up there, straining my eyes under the light of the torches and what little the barely cracking dawn provides, like I'm going to see a station sitting pretty on a hill any moment now. The sky is dark purple, to the inexperienced eye still night-time. But it would crack soon.
After a couple more miles I see it - above the tallest trees up above you can see the edge of a plateau. On the plateau stand remnants of the Ark, a shining beacon of new hope. From all the way down where we are, we can only see bits of it. Hope surges through me when I see no char and no debris immediately, but we're still a way off and it's still dark and we've barely seen bits of it and I could be way way wrong. No getting excited yet.
It's almost a two hundred feet climb to the plateau though, and we have to figure out how to get up there. It's pretty steep, and we can't rely on our own hands. Dwyght has a hatchet on him, but there's only so much one can do with a single hatchet when climbing. With two, one may be able to get up there. I curse at myself for not thinking this through enough, for not analyzing every little possibility.
''We would have heard someone up there, if there was anyone,'' Jonas suggests after a while, a hand going through his greying hair in worry and nerves on edge.
''All the way up there, and this early?'' I ask, ''You sure?''
''I'm with him on this one,'' Ringer says, shaking his heada - his silky black hair dancing around his face. It reminds me of Finn Collins, and sends a stab of pain through my chest. I shake it off. ''There's no one up there, kid,'' he added.
''You want us to take you up on that? We need to see.''
''But how? There's no way we can get up there, the least we can do is get back and report and come back here when we're better equipped-''
''I got it,'' Monroe says, cocking her gun at the sky. Her gun clicks before either of us can say anything; she's already fired a shot before any of us could even try and stop her. It's done before we could catch it.
One single bullet booms and echoes eerily through the night. The sound is bouncing off the hillside and the trees and we all hold a collective breath, like the noise of that gun just makes everything ten times more creepy with the sky barely turning purple and nothing but quiet forest sounds around us.
''That should be signal enough,'' she quips, almost with a shrug.
''Damn it, what is it with you kids and guns,'' Jonas hisses, ''Good job alerting the whole freaking forest to our presence!''
''I think we'll be able to handle a few wolves,'' I say, looking up expectantly. I don't really dare truly expect to find anyone up there, but I still hope. God damn it, I really hope.
A head peeks out over the ledge before leaning further in to reveal the rest of the body. A young man, as far as I can assume - around Bellamy's age probably. I can't see much of him in the flickering shadows to make any conclusions though. The mere fact that there is someone up there staring down at us is crazy enough; it seems pretty damn impossible at the moment. Our people! More of our people! I almost don't believe my own eyes. He stands up there with a lantern in hand that shines some light on his somewhat frightened and confused features, and we have to look as dumbfounded as he is, staring up at him. And then he speaks, after we've all remembered to breathe:
''Holy fucking shit.''
*
They pull us up from a ledge a little further west. They've been using it when they needed, ever since they landed. A handful of them would rappel up and down, in charge of getting the food and water. They have a sort of a system, or so we're told as we walk back to their ''camp''. The boy's name is Sean, and he can't stop asking questions frantically throughout. I can't answer every one, and I don't want to be the one to relay the details of everything we've gone through with the Grounders. He leads us to what's been their home since the Ark came down. It's dawned by the time we reach the place.
I am half-surprised that they seem to have their own little camp up here, though I guess I should have expected it. It doesn't look like much. A crash site, for sure - a lot of trash and broken things and a rubble that barely resembles an Ark station. Only one small portion of it is usable, providing some shelter to the survivors. Even so, the sight of it is mesmerizing.
There aren't many survivors either. Even assuming not everyone is awake yet, they can't count over twenty-something. Still, it's twenty-something more people that could shoot twenty-something more guns. Precious numbers.
It isn't just about the numbers; I'm not becoming that cold yet. The realization that more of our people are alive really grips me and over-floods me with happiness. It's gut-wrenching to think of how many have died, and what must it have been like for those who live to bury so many, or in which state they might have found some of their friends and family before they could try and bury them. I don't dare ask anything regarding the matter.
Truthfully, they've been lucky, landing on a spot this secluded and on higher ground. The Grounders must have seen where the station has fallen, but since the survivors are few and have kept to themselves, they probably haven't seemed worth the hassle.
''This is it,'' Sean says, extending an arm as though announcing it in a grandiose manner. The five of us still seem to hold a collective breath as we watch the people go about their business. Someone is gutting a rabbit. It all seems so normal. They are... surviving.
The moment people start noticing us, it's like they've seen God. In seemingly less than a moment, everyone rushes and clusters around us, eyes wide, some of them teary, asking questions all at once, in disbelief of us as much as we are in disbelief of them. Sean and a guard of theirs has to stand ahead of us just in case the crowd tries to overrun us in their excitement, trying to calm everyone. Then Jonas recognizes the guard and they go into a hug and laugh and clap each other's backs and I just stand there, still stunned, me and Monroe sharing a glance at each other before staring back at everyone around. The crowd is still roaring, everyone still talking at the same time. There is hope for us all; that's what holds a grip on them. It seems like a dream, the whole thing.
''Everyone, please!'' Sean shouts, raising his hands to silence the crowd. The noise only dies down a little - enough for an announcement to be heard. ''We all have questions, but they cannot answer them all at once! Let them speak!''
The noise dies down a bit more, and I realize they expect one of us to start speaking. Start explaining. I wait, by habit leaving it to someone else, expecting someone to start talking. I look to Jonas, being the oldest, but he's looking back at me, a grin from his friendly encounter still lingering on his face. I glance at Dwyght and Monroe to my left, and they both give a suggestive nudge of their heads at the same time. There are now only buzzes through the small crowd.
I clear my throat. I don't know where to start.
My name seems like a good place. I don't seem to know a single soul here from back up on the Ark anyway.
''My name is Natasha Parish. I- We,'' I correct, giving a small smile to Monroe, ''Came down with the first hundred. We've been through a lot since then, but that's a story for another day. Right now you need to know that we have a home, hundreds of our people living in Camp Jaha not a few days walk from here.''
People laugh, some hug, some thank God, someone cries; but mostly I am just blinded by so many smiles and hopeful hands that tremble as they touch faces and clasp other hands and pray this isn't a lie and there isn't a catch. I grin like a fool despite myself, my eyes watering and hairs standing on end at the mere sight of so much happiness. It probably won't last long, the thought comes, but I push it away.
''When do we leave!'' someone shouts.
''As soon as you're ready!'' Dwyght's voice booms over the crowd, a grin plastered on his face too.
''Everyone, start packing, there will be time for more questions and explanations. Right now, we need to get ready,'' Sean announces, ''Essentials only, we'll want to travel light. By the time the hunters are back, I want everyone packed and ready to go.''
In another moment, the crowd disperses, getting to their corners and on their tasks immediately.
''Who's the leader here?'' I ask, and it sounds an awful lot like ''It can't possibly be you.'' Sean seems to read through it but apparently takes no offense in it as a smile breaks out on his face. He's handsome, and not in face only. His build reminds me of Bellamy's.
''No leader, mostly just guards handling the order around here. They've kept us safe,'' he shrugs.
''How many guards?'' Monroe asks.
''Six in total,'' Sean frowns at the small number, ''A lot of people died in that rubble. It's a wonder we survived, really.''
We all nod grimly, not commenting on it.
''But!'' he claps his hands, ''You lot should rest if you want to be alive for the journey back. No offence, but you all look like you've been floated and brought back.''
''Gee, thanks,'' I smirk.
''Lisa!'' he calls over to someone, ''These people need food! Make it happen, will you!''
''Any trouble with the Grounders?'' I ask him as he walks us to the inner side of their camp to where the remnants of last night's campfire stand.
''Yeah,'' his voice sounds heavy now, ''We lost people the very first day we went down into those woods. The bastards made damn sure to let us know this was their territory.''
''How many?''
''Too many for our already small numbers,'' he frowns, sitting down himself as he reaches for a few metal bottles of water that stand in a cask kept in the shade. We all grab one.
''We heard them a few days ago,'' he continues, ''Saw the lights of their camps even all the way from here. It sounded like they were preparing for a battle.''
''They were,'' I frown.
''You?'' he asks, almost in disbelief.
''Yeah,'' Monroe confirms, having a swing of the water like it's moonshine. She probably wishes it was, the moment she remembers the whole thing.
Finn.
I shake it off.
''Long story,'' I say, ''You'll hear all of it soon. From someone else.''
''The Chancellor?''
''Jaha and Kane made it, but Dr. Griffin is Chancellor now,'' Dwyght smiles as a woman I assume is the one named Lisa brings us some meat and wild fruits. We all dig in, saving our own provisions for the trip back.
''A lot has happened, so be prepared to digest it all,'' I say, swallowing a chunk, ''And I mean it.''
Sean nods. ''The guards will be back from the hunt in a few hours. The people will give you their cots and tents. You should use the time to sleep.''
He leaves us with that, the four of us trying to digest everything that's happened along with the food, and Jonas off somewhere with his newly found friend, refusing to leave his side now.
*
The guards come back about two hours after noon, by the position of the sun. We've all had ourselves a good few hours of sleep, but once the hunters are back it's time to re-group and try to get everyone to get going as soon as possible. I really want to be back before the Tondc escort, but I know now that probably won't be possible with all these people. There are a couple of kids among them, and their mothers are probably terrified of stepping down into those woods with their children in hand. It doesn't matter that we've told them all that we now have a truce with the Grounders. No one seems to trust it much.
After getting some more food in us and re-grouping, we go out and wait for everyone to gather in front of the camp. Bit by bit, the small throng forms. There seems to be only a few extra guns that the guards were able to retrieve, and they are held by unskilled hands of a couple of civilians. The rest have hand-made weapons - knives and short spears they'd use to defend themselves if they have to.
''Everyone, get behind us,'' I hear a voice boom over again, but this time it sounded familiar - why does it sound familiar? I can't see the man yet through the formed crowd, but I know it has to be one of the guards that's come back. I only got a chance to take a glance at two of them earlier today before they rushed to get ready once they were debriefed by Sean. I was just waking up, too.
Why does he sound so familiar?
''Caleb and Vlad, I want you at the rear!'' he goes on, ''Keep together and move carefully! I don't want anyone trailing off, understood?!''
The sound gets closer and clearer until he's stepped out in the open and I can finally see him. And it's like one of those slow-motion scenes in those stupid over a hundred year old action movies where the protagonist scans the opponent slowly from feet up to his face: Boots. Guard uniform. Shock baton and side-arm. Calloused hands and prominent veins sticking out on strong arms with sleeves rolled up. Vest. And the face of a man I definitely know.
''You.''