3 days on the ground
Icarus was buzzing with synthetic energy.
He hadn't slept since last night, and while he was no stranger to 24-hour days, he didn't have treason to plan and carry out. The adrenaline from that was probably enough to keep him awake and aware, but he couldn't risk the chance of drowsiness. And so, he'd dug out two of his precious caffeine patches and slapped them onto his upper left arm, hiding the gray squares under the sleeve of his jumpsuit.
Madi was on her way to get what she called a rover, but what Icarus realized from her explanation of the device was a vehicle, and would be back by dawn for the second half of their patchwork plan. Which left him just a few hours to think up as harmless a diversion as he could, contact the prisoners, free them, and then get them outside the wall without being caught.
"Stay cool, stay cool," he muttered to himself under his breath as he crouched in the confined space of the maintenance duct across the hall from Clarke's cell. His father and Doc were still in there, and thankfully Clarke's screams had stopped, but he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. "You got this."
Hopefully.
Soon, the door opened and the captain and Doc stood in the hall. A silver case was held loosely in Doc's hand, and she looked tired, but none of them had any blood on their clothes or skin.
Oh. Shit.
Icarus bit his tongue against the instinct to vocalize his curse as he realized why the screams had been so terrible. They'd used the punishment drugs on her, a clear liquid that brought unimaginable pain, forcing one's nerves into override. It was what their colony used for lesser crimes instead of the death sentence, and one injection was usually enough to put someone back on the straight and narrow.
"Why are you doing this?" Icarus breathed, his gaze narrowing as he stared at the emotionless features of his father.
Any doubts he'd had about his reckless decision to free their prisoners was instantly erased in that moment. These people had done nothing wrong, and if they were aggressive in the future, Icarus wouldn't blame them. His people had done nothing but wrong to them, even though he hoped that by freeing them before any further harm was done, potential war could be avoided.
So, in a way, he wasn't betraying his people. He was saving them.
"Maybe we should have started with the others first," Doc said, her voice breaking past Icarus' internal debate.
"Any information they have is six years old, which isn't very useful," the captain replied. "No, your plan is a good one. This will give her time to think about the choices we've given her, and the rest from pain will make the possible return of it hopefully more effective than it has been."
"All right." Doc blinked slowly, clearly lacking a caffeine patch for awareness. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Sleep well, Doc."
And then they were gone.
Icarus waited a minute longer to make sure the hall was clear, and then he clambered out of the duct, replacing the vent afterwards. There was a camera in the corner, but he'd disabled the power to it from the duct before he'd climbed down to floor level.
When he came to the cell door, he heard sharp, ragged inhalations from the other side. Somehow, those quiet sounds seemed even worse than her screams had.
"Shit," Icarus muttered, mentally throwing even worse curses his father's way as he jimmied open the electrical panel for the locking system. After reassembling a few wires, the door slid open onto the dim room.
Clarke quieted as he walked in, the door sliding shut behind him and leaving the two of them in semi-darkness. From the glimpse he'd had of her restrained form, her skin had been pale and slick with sweat, and her eyes puffy.
"I'm going to get you out of here," Icarus whispered, his heart racing with the declaration. No matter his resolution or logical reasons, years of living under colony rules made the words seem horribly wrong.
"You." Clarke's voice was hoarse from screaming, and wet with tears. "You helped Madi get away."
"You remember me," he laughed humorlessly – a dry, short sound.
"Icarus," she replied. "It's a unique name. The boy who fell from the sky because he flew too close to the sun."
"Yeah, my dad named me," Icarus said, squinting at the buckles on the straps holding her onto the metal chair. They looked frustratingly difficult.
"Huh." Clarke snorted, seeming to regain a semblance of strength by his presence and the hope of rescue that he brought with him. "That's funny, because in the story, Icarus disobeyed his father."
"It is, isn't it?" he agreed wryly, a bitter smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Oh, if she only knew how true his name was proving to be . . . well, hopefully without the whole falling to his death part.
"Why are you helping me?" she asked, her voice wary.
He didn't question her caution. For all she knew, this was another part of her torture. Hell, he was the one who had captured her, and look how that had turned out!
"Ogeda," he said, stumbling over the foreign syllables. "Madi told me to tell that to you."
"Dammit," Clarke whispered. "She was supposed to get herself to safety."
"Well, if it's any consolation, I probably wouldn't be able to rescue you if she wasn't helping me from the outside," Icarus said.
His eyes were adjusting to the dark now, and he freed one of her hands, which she flexed and then reached up to the strap across her chest, her fingers fumbling with the buckle there.
"I didn't want this to happen," Icarus said in a rush, as he undid the buckle over her thighs. Now that he knew how to unlatch them, she would be free very soon. "What my people did to you . . . it's not right. I'm sorry I couldn't have done something sooner, but" – he sighed heavily – "as I'm sure you've noticed, it's not particularly easy to go against the grain here."
Clarke sat up then, reaching forward to help him with the straps across her legs.
"Your captain said that you've got seven of my people on board," she said. "From space."
"Yes." Icarus stepped back as she stood up off the chair, her movements slightly stiff from her hours of nerve torture. "They're in the main cellblock, a few levels down. Don't worry, they're safe for now. But my . . . our captain, he–"
"I know," she said, her voice tense and worried. "So, what now?"
"Since they're in the main cells, they've got guards," Icarus explained. "I can handle them, but I need to set the diversion first."
6 years and 9 days after Praimfaya
Clarke wanted to run out the door and straight to her captive friends. She wanted to see their faces and bask in the reality of their return. But that had to wait. She had to free them first.
The young guard, Icarus, stood in front of her, the only ally she had. Even if she didn't want to trust him, she had no choice.
"So, handle them," she told him. "I'll be the diversion."
"They'll kill you," Icarus warned.
Clarke smiled mirthlessly at him. His people had threatened her, her blood-sister, and now the ones she'd been without for six long years. Icarus didn't know that in freeing her, he'd released her rage and given it a target.
"They'll have to catch me first," she said.
~ ~ ~
The air crackled hot with electricity by the time Madi reached the rover. Wind rustled through the treetops, stiff and chilly. As she caught her breath for a moment, she tasted ozone on her tongue.
A storm was coming.
Normally, Madi would have known to find shelter from the wild, dangerous weather. Now, she laughed with dark amusement as she got behind the wheel of the rover and started the engine, the yellow headlights cutting through the restless forest.
Today, the weather was their friend.
-----
The next few chapters are gonna be CRAZY intense, y'all . . . and I apologize in advance for the angst and feels you will have.
Next chapter, though, is gonna have SO MUCH FIGHTING like I really like how Clarke has had the chance to get all Octavia-level epic after Praimfaya xD
Vote and comment!