***The Ark***
"Ten more, one after the next," Abby said with intense focus, her eyes fixed on the screen displaying critical data.
Jackson approached her with a sense of urgency. "Abby, look at the plasma osmolarity; they're going up across the board."
Abby's eyes lit up with hope, and she reached out, grabbing his arm in excitement. "They found water."
Just as their jubilant moment was unfolding, the door behind them swung open dramatically. In strode Commander Shumway, making a grand entrance into the Earth Monitoring station, flanked by a retinue of stern-faced guards. "Councilor Abigal Griffin, you're under arrest for exceeding the maximum medical supplies allowed for a patient," Shumway declared with authority.
Kane entered the room, walking in behind the guards, and approached Abby. He spoke softly, filled with a sense of regret. "I'm sorry this has to be public," he said to her. "The policy in these matters is very clear—no special treatment."
Abby's gaze remained unwavering, locked onto Kane's. "What about Delyn? She's 21 and was supposed to be floated. She got special treatment when you and Jaha arranged for her to be on the dropship when other people didn't get that chance and were instead floated."
Kane raised an eyebrow, his tone unyielding. "That's a different matter. She was underage when her crime was committed."
Abby shook her head, her voice filled with frustration. "No. She was underage when it started. She helped hide the truth for 16 years. When we arrested Octavia, your daughter was 20."
Kane hesitated for a moment, then firmly stated, "That is a different matter and we will discuss it no further," Kane repeated more sternly. He started to walk away, then abruptly turned back. "How much blood did you use, Abby?"
"Don't answer that," Jackson warned her, his concern evident.
"I used whatever it took," Abby blurted out, her defiance unwavering. "Breaking the law to keep you from becoming chancellor was the easiest decision I've ever made." The deep-seated disdain between Abby and Kane had never been concealed, and their daughters had grown up immersed in this bitter enmity.
"In that case, given your confession, in my role as Chancellor Pro Tempore, you leave me no choice but to find you guilty," Kane declared, his voice tinged with regret.
"We always have a choice, Kane. You chose to press charges against my husband, your friend, even though you knew he would get floated for it. You chose to include my daughter in those charges, yet let yours walk, and now you're choosing this," Abby said, her words laced with bitterness. "Hiding behind the law absolves you of nothing."
Kane straightened his posture, his tone defensive. "My daughter wasn't a threat to our survival. She was an engineer working on the issue. And this isn't about her." He always bristled when anyone spoke ill of his daughter. Abby's attempts to convince Kane of his daughter's criminal involvement had always been a source of tension.
"In accordance with penal code one, because all crimes committed by those above the age of maturity are capital crimes, you are hereby sentenced to death. Execution is set for the morning, and I choose at every turn and at any cost to make sure that the human race stays alive," Kane declared as he began to walk away.
Abby's retort was filled with a profound sense of purpose. "That's the difference between us, Kane," she said resolutely. "I choose to make sure that we deserve to stay alive." Their fundamental disagreement on the nature of survival and justice loomed large, threatening to drive a deeper wedge between them as the events unfolded.
~~~
Kane stood in solitude by the window of his unit, gazing down at Earth. He desperately clung to optimism, but after scanning the tiles on the screen in Earth Monitoring, his hope began to wane. The view of the desolate planet below did not align with the aspirations they had held for a new beginning.
The relentless radiation loomed as an invisible, impending doom, gradually claiming the lives of the 100 - his daughter among them. The weight of his helplessness bore down on him, a crushing burden with no escape. There was no way to bridge the vast expanse that separated them, no means to convey the depths of his love and the fervent wish for her survival, a profound yearning etched into every fiber of his being.
He savored a sip from his cup, fully aware that wherever Delyn was, night had descended upon that region of the planet, as it faced away from the warming sun. Deep inside, he held onto the hope that his daughter had found a cozy and secure spot, where she could relish the planet's natural wonders, even if it might ultimately prove to be her undoing. He had no idea, apart from possible radiation, of what possible dangers could be down there, but Delyn was strong. The love and worry he held for his daughter consumed his every thought, the emotions etched in the lines on his face and the depth of his gaze.
The door behind him creaked open, abruptly pulling him from his thoughts. Swiftly, he pivoted to behold Callie's entry into the unit, a shadow of worry casting a solemn hue across her eyes. His heart sank as he took in the turmoil in her expression, and a twinge of guilt began to gnaw at him. "Are you out of your mind?" Callie snapped at him. "You can't just kill everyone who disagrees with you."
Kane felt the weight of her accusation, and he understood the pain in her voice. He knew he had crossed a line, but he also couldn't shake the dire reality they were facing. "Now, you all think I'm a bad guy," he said, his voice tinged with remorse, "but I'm the only one who's willing to do what it takes to save us."
"She's my best friend," Callie recalled, her voice trembling with emotion.
Kane's eyes softened as he looked at Callie, torn between his duty and the guilt that was consuming him. "So what do you want me to say? I'm sorry? I'm not." He took a step closer to her. He was feeling sorry, but he couldn't admit it. "Friendship is a luxury we can't afford, and if I have to take us down to a cosmic Adam and Eve, I will do it."
"Please, show mercy," Callie begged, tears glistening in her eyes. "If not for Abby then for me."
Kane's resolve wavered as he met her tearful gaze. He knew he should be strong, but the pain in Callie's eyes cut through him. "We can't afford mercy, either," he whispered, his voice laced with regret, knowing that the weight of their survival rested heavily on his shoulders.
***The Ground***
Wells found rest leaning against the gnarled trunk of a tree, his back nestled into the rough bark. With his arms drawn close to his body, he sought comfort and warmth as a gentle breeze rustled the leaves above him. The rustling of the leaves was like a soothing lullaby, a natural melody that played against the backdrop of a world untouched by the chaos he had left behind. The soft caress of the breeze kissed his skin, bringing a moment of tranquility amidst the turmoil that surrounded him.
Then suddenly, a hand, calloused and rough, was placed over his mouth, muffling any instinctive cry that might have escaped his lips. In the dim light, his eyes shot open, pupils dilating with fear and confusion. There, before him, was Bellamy, a figure in the shadows, his face partly obscured. Wells could feel the icy press of the barrel of a gun against his temple, the cold metal a stark reminder of the life-and-death situation he had been thrust into. Bellamy's grip was unwavering, an unspoken threat that hung heavily in the air.
Bellamy ensured that Wells' gaze fixed upon the menacing gun, his silent message clear, before slowly retracting his hand. "Follow me," Bellamy commanded, exerting a force that compelled Wells to his feet and began propelling him forward.
A jumble of questions swirled in Wells' mind, confusion etched across his face as he stammered, "What's going on?"
In response, Bellamy thrust the cold steel of the gun against Wells' back, his voice unwavering as he growled, "Just keep walking." The urgency in Bellamy's tone left no room for negotiation, and with each step, Wells was acutely aware of the ominous presence of the gun, a reminder that his fate hung in the balance.
Finally, Bellamy removed the gun, and the metallic coldness of its absence left a lingering imprint on Wells' skin. His voice, tinged with urgency, cut through the tension as he said, "That's far enough." Wells, turning around to face Bellamy, observed the conflict etched on his face.
"I don't want to shoot you, Wells—hell, I like you," Bellamy confessed, his words bearing the weight of a heavy truth. "But I do need them to think you're dead." He gestured toward the sky with his firearm, emphasizing the desperate lengths to which their survival depended on this ruse.
"Why? Why are you doing this, for real, not some crap about getting to do what you want to do?" Wells asked.
"I have my reasons," Bellamy said. "I also have the gun, so I ask the questions, and the question is, why aren't you helping me?" Bellamy asked Wells. In the depth of Bellamy's gaze, it was evident that Wells' father was subjecting him to a treatment akin to that of a lab rat. "Your dad banished you, Wells, and yet here you are, still doing his bidding, following the rules. Aren't you tired of always doing what's expected of you? Stand up to him. Take off that wristband, and you'll be amazed at how good it feels."
"I'll be amazed if you can convince Delyn that what you're doing is right. She was on the Council, and after Sinclair, she had a good chance of being the chief engineer. And she would make a much better Chancellor than most people on the Council. She's not just going to let this slide."
Bellamy chuckled softly, a glint of mirth in his eyes. "She is all that, but even Delyn doesn't always bend to her father's rules. That's why she's down here. And I am going to make sure she feels free." He held out his hand. "Just take off the wristband."
"No. Never. Not gonna happen," Wells argued. "Is that clear enough for you?"
Bellamy sighed and bit his lip. "Yeah. It is." Bellamy swiftly took hold of his gun, a dangerous glint in his eye as he aimed it toward the ground and released a sharp click, the distinct sound sending a shiver of trepidation through Wells. "I'm sorry it had to be this way."
Bellamy deftly tucked the gun into his waistband, concealing the threat it represented. Meanwhile, Murphy and Mbege emerged from the shadows, each gripping menacing metal rods. Wells, sensing the growing danger, made a desperate attempt to flee in the opposite direction, but his escape was abruptly thwarted as Nathan Miller and Atom intercepted him, his firm grip making escape impossible.
The four of them, their collective weight pressing down on Wells, engaged in a tumultuous struggle. Wells' frantic cries for mercy echoed through the surroundings, his voice trembling with desperation as he implored them to halt their actions. Defying his pleas, they seized his arm, cruelly positioning it over a weathered boulder.
Murphy, his face contorted with a mixture of determination and cruelty, wielded his metal rod like a sinister tool. He forcefully inserted the cold, unforgiving instrument between Wells' skin and the wristband, an agonizing and tearing resistance accompanying the painful liberation of the device.
Bellamy, his face a mask of indifference, turned his back on the distressing scene, walking away from the turmoil and distancing himself from Wells' anguished cries. The heart-wrenching sounds of Wells's pain served as a haunting backdrop to his retreat, a reminder of the harsh realities of their circumstances.
***The Ark***
Abby found herself perched on the cold, unforgiving floor of her cell, the very same cell her daughter had called home during the agonizing year of her solitary confinement. The cell's walls and floor were a tapestry of vivid chalk drawings that Clarke had painstakingly etched, each one a vibrant depiction of the beautiful world that Abby now realized she might never have the chance to see for herself.
As the dim cell offered up its silent testament to her daughter's artistry, Abby knew that she had only one solitary night to savor these precious creations before the inevitable moment arrived. After the night was over, with a heavy heart, she was escorted out of this cell and led toward the unforgiving airlock.
Walking alongside her, providing a somber yet supportive presence, were Jackson and Callie, both prepared to bid farewell to the esteemed doctor who had become a beloved figure within their confined world. The impending goodbye weighed heavily on their hearts as they accompanied Abby on the solemn journey towards the airlock, where the harsh reality of their situation was about to unfold.
Kane and Commander Shumway loomed somberly at the entrance to the airlock, a daunting portal leading to Abby's fate. They understood the gravity of the moment and had permitted this poignant farewell for Callie and Jackson, cognizant of the emotional burden that weighed upon them all.
Abby, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, clung to Callie as the emotional dam within the room finally gave way. The weight of impending separation and the sheer uncertainty of the future bore down on them both. In the midst of this heart-wrenching embrace, the sobs that escaped Callie's trembling frame resonated with a profound sense of loss and fear for the beloved doctor she had come to cherish. It was a moment fraught with both love and despair, a raw expression of the turmoil they all faced as they prepared to part ways in this unforgiving, confined world.
"That's enough," Kane said firmly, his voice carrying the weight of their dire situation.
Reluctantly, Callie was compelled to pull away from the embrace of her dear friend. The necessity of their impending separation hung heavily in the air. The room seemed to echo with the melancholy of their parting, the ache etched into the lines of their faces, a silent testament to the emotional toll exacted by the unforgiving circumstances that now bound their fate. They were warriors of survival, but they were not immune to the pain of separation.
"Watch out for Clarke for me," Abby told Callie, her voice tremulous with concern as she entrusted her daughter's well-being to a friend she had come to rely on in this harsh, unforgiving world. The bond between them was a lifeline in their struggle for survival, and it was with a heavy heart that Abby let go, knowing that they were all living on borrowed time.
Two guards reached out to take hold of Abby, their hands closing around her with a firm grip. However, a surge of defiance coursed through her, and she forcefully pushed them away. Turning one last time to gaze at the ominous door leading to the airlock, her eyes reflected a mixture of fear, determination, and sorrow.
Kane, bearing the weight of this somber moment, took a deep breath and then pressed the button to initiate the opening of the airlock. The mechanical hiss and clank of the door marked the beginning of the final step of Abby's journey, as she hesitantly, yet resolutely, stepped over the threshold into the unforgiving and unknown expanse of the airlock.
Kane's gaze lingered on Callie, and though he would never openly confess it, a palpable undercurrent of guilt coursed through his thoughts as he fixated on Abby standing in that unforgiving airlock.
"Jackson, use the wristbands," she implored, her words laced with hope. "There might be a way to reverse-engineer them for communication. Talk to Sinclair in engineering." As the airlock door sealed her off from her friends, she added, "Nod if you understand," her voice carrying a mix of desperation and resolve. Jackson nodded, showing he understood the assignment.
Kane exchanged a subtle nod with Shumway, signaling for him to initiate the sequence by pushing the button. However, just as they were on the cusp of proceeding, an authoritative voice, commanding and stern, called out from behind them, demanding an immediate halt to their actions.
They turned around as Chancellor Jaha, his face etched with pain, pushed his way through the throng of onlookers to reach Kane. He clung to the blood-soaked bandages that covered his stomach wound, each step a testament to his resilience. "Dr. Griffin is pardoned," Jaha announced with a firmness that couldn't quite mask the agony he was in. He shot a piercing glare at Kane. "I'll deal with you later. Open the door." Shumway, feeling the weight of the situation, immediately obeyed, his hands trembling as he pressed the button to open the airlock door.
Abby stepped out of the airlock, her eyes narrowing as she confronted Jaha. The exhaustion from the intense surgery she had just performed was etched into the lines on her face. "I spent 12 hours putting those intestines back together," she stated firmly, her gaze not wavering. She cast a critical glance behind Jaha at the guards who had accompanied him. "Get him back to bed."
With Abby's orders echoing in the air, Jaha reluctantly allowed the guards to guide him away, leaving him and Kane alone in the dimly lit corridor. The tension between the two men was palpable as they exchanged a momentary, unspoken acknowledgment of the complex dynamics that now existed between them.
Abby, resolute and focused, walked past them, her footsteps echoing through the metal corridor as she made her way toward a more private setting. "Tell me about the 100," she demanded, her concern for their well-being evident in her voice. "Did they make it?" The fate of the group of young exiles weighed heavily on her mind, and she needed to know if her efforts had not been in vain.
***The Ground***
The team that had been on a mission to reach Mount Weather gathered at the riverbank, their objective clear: cross the river using a sturdy vine to prevent further casualties. The air was thick with tension, and the sound of rushing water added to the foreboding atmosphere.
Finn stood there, his hands gripping the vine tightly, but he seemed hesitant to take the first step. "You wanted to go first," Clarke reminded him, her voice laced with urgency. "Now quit stalling. Mount Weather awaits."
"Just hang on till the apogee, and you'll be fine," Jasper told Finn, his voice trying to reassure but tinged with an underlying fear.
"The apogee, like the Indians, right?" Finn asked him, once again stalling and revealing his anxiety.
"Apogee, not Apache," Jasper corrected with a hint of frustration.
"He knows," Clarke said impatiently, her eyes darting around. "Today, Finn."
Finn saluted to her with a shaky hand. "Aye, aye, Captain." He turned to Jasper. "See you on the other side."
As Jasper gazed down at Octavia, a sudden, overwhelming desire to leave a lasting impression on her washed over him. "Wait," he said to Finn, his voice quivering. He looked down at Octavia, his fear palpable. "Let me." Finn looked down at the girl and got the hint. "I can do it."
Finn smiled and nodded, passing the vine over to Jasper. "Knew there was a badass in there somewhere." Octavia smiled as Jasper took hold of the vine the same way Finn was, but he started to hesitate. Fear gnawed at him. "Hey, it's ok to be afraid, Jasper," Finn said, his voice understanding. "The trick is not fighting it."
Jasper sighed, his breathing unsteady, and stepped back. "See you on the other side."
Summoning every ounce of courage he could muster, Jasper boldly leaped off the ledge, gripping the vine tightly as it whisked him across the expanse, releasing his hold at its zenith. He tumbled to the ground but swiftly regained his footing, jubilantly cheering, and his exuberance infected the others as they joined in with their own cheers, though beneath the surface, their fear lingered.
"We are apogee!" he called out, trying to mask his fear with enthusiasm.
Jasper was on the other side celebrating and dancing, and Finn passed the vine to Delyn. "You're up, Kane," he said.
Delyn, her face etched with determination, grasped the vine firmly. "Come on, Delyn! You got this!" Jasper called to her, his voice quivering. "Whoo! Apogee!" Jasper swiftly crouched down as soon as he spotted a sign, carefully revealing it from its concealment and proudly hoisting it aloft. The sign, emblazoned with the unmistakable words "Mount Weather" in bold letters, had been found. "We did it! Mount Weather!"
Delyn began to gain her footing, her ears filled with the echoing cheers of her companions. However, a sudden, alarming development occurred as an object hurtled through the air, ultimately finding its mark right in Jasper's chest.
A spear, thrown with remarkable precision from a concealed location behind them, now protruded from Jasper's chest, eliciting screams and gasps of fear from the rest of the group.
"Jasper," Clarke called and got no response. The group called his name, their voices trembling with dread, but there was no answer. Finn quickly gathered everybody, getting down below the rocks to hide, their fear of the unknown adversary intensifying.
They heard movement in the trees, and they searched everywhere, their eyes darting in all directions, but no one could be seen. In a low, raspy voice, Clarke said, "We're not alone," her fear reflecting in her tone, as the uncertainty of their situation gripped them all.