Got dreams with sister in it. It was like she was alive. We were spear-fishing again but this time Nomon and Nontu and Bro were there too. We were in a competition and they were cheering me on. Ai sis was teasing me but after it was all over and I—get this—speared more fish than her!— she had looked at me really proudly and ruffled my hair but weirdly I'd smiled but not scowled like I woulda done usually.
And thinking about it makes me miss her more than ever. Especially now.
Don't really know why I'm writing this stuff because it's just stuff. Feel a bit better dumping it all down though.
...
''Lexa...?''
''What is it, Clarke?''
Clarke's voice dropped low into a whisper, as her eyes glimmered with excitement. ''Don't tell Madi yet—but I think I've found a way to make the radios work.''
Is that so, Clarke? was what Lexa wanted to say, but instead, she raised an eyebrow at Clarke's remark about Madi. ''And why not?''
Clarke grinned. ''Want it to be a surprise. But here—'' and she pressed the radio in Lexa's hands, closed her fingers around it.
Lexa studied the device, almost awkwardly feeling it over, as Clarke grinned like she'd saved a dozen lives and rambled on. ''It's not working now because it's missing an antenna, but after I find one and reattach it—I'm quite sure it'll work.''
''Then we will be able to talk with those in space?''
Clarke's smile was rueful as it was infectious. ''Hopefully. But by the looks of it—we'll be able to connect with them by the end of the week.''
...
The truck screeched to a stop in the front door of the abode.
Clarke let out a loud breath and rested her hands on the truck wheel. They were finally here. It had been a long journey; and one especially lengthened, with the quiet that plagued the truck the past few days. Clarke didn't realise how much of a difference silence made, until after a few days the journey had felt so impossibly long, despite how quickly it had seemed to go by during their arrival.
Breathed in again; exhaled. That didn't matter now. They were here, and that was all that she was going to think about now. So she took a breath, and removing her hands from the wheel, opened the truck door.
And her heart was filled with dread.
The abode door swung wide open.
I must've forgotten to close it, was the thought that repeated in her mind, but even then she knew it wasn't true. She was careful, and when they had six pairs of eyes to watch over everything, she knew that they wouldn't forget.
She tried to keep it off her mind, as Madi slipped out of the truck and she took Lexa's wheelchair from the back of the truck and set it out. And once Lexa had transferred, Clarke had looked, disturbed, at the abode's wide open door.
Her heart felt like ice.
Madi didn't seem notice her expression, however, because she had bounded towards the abode without a look tossed backwards. She had made it halfway to the door as ice jabbed her heart until Clarke couldn't take the cold anymore, and from her mouth slipped out an involuntary: ''No!''
And when Madi paused, blinking and confused, Clarke had edged towards the abode, her hand on her knife's hilt, as she—slowly but steadily—entered through the door.
And the cold in her heart froze over; felt as ornate and solid as her metal blade. She blinked; almost rubbed her eyes, for she couldn't be seeing right.
For nothing stared back at her.
Everything, from the drawers to the windows, yearned wide-open. Everything, from the counters to the tables, was scrubbed clean, from their bags to their rations to their resources. There was nothing because everything was gone.
''Shit!'' Clarke cursed as she rummaged through the drawers. Nothing. Not even the candles or their notepads or—
There was nothing but the bare quiet. Clarke gazed around the room, despairingly, as if to find some presence of something, but there was only Madi's agitation that met her back—and Lexa's face, streaked emotionless, as her gaze flittered around the room.
When Clarke spoke again, her voice was barely audible. ''It's all gone. There's nothing left. Something—someone took it all.''
...
Twenty packets. Five worn bottles. Four blunted swords. Three toned daggers. Two jagged spears. Two loaded guns. One backpack.
Her gaze flittered away from the haul of resource, turned outside to the vista that met her eyes a dozen miles below, and on her lips played a smile, as she slid her legs to dangle at the cliff's edge. Enough. It would be enough.
Twenty days to starve them. Divide the rations by two and it would be forty. Weapons gone, gear lost, mechanisms buried— there was a whimsical chance for their survival, and even if they didn't, they'd be withered enough for a quick finish with ease.
Forty more days. Forty more days—so she lives, so they die. Perhaps it was not for the best, but it would be enough.
Luna smiled, looking over her empire. An expanse of lush green trees, surrounded by a cliff's edge, and a shodden village to match. Her vision travelled, from the spots of green among a blanket of orange-red to meet the dusking skyline, and she felt a smile warm her face as she pulled out a bottle, and drank.
All of it was hers.
END YEAR THREE / PART I.
Chapter 47
Start from the beginning
