Finn, skeptical, interjected with a scoff. "That's always your plan, like the bomb at the bridge."
Bellamy shot back defiantly. "Damn right, you got a better idea?"
Amidst the exchange, my attention was drawn to the small rocket model on our so-called "Battle Board." A thought began to form, a flicker of an idea in the midst of our dire brainstorming session. "It can't be that simple," I sighed, then turned to Raven. "There's rocket fuel, right? Enough to build 100 bombs?"
Raven countered, "I also said we have no gunpowder left."
My idea was taking shape, and I shared it with the group. "I don't want to build a bomb, I want to blast off."
Raven's eyes lit up with understanding. "Draw them in close, fire the rockets, a ring of fire," she articulated the plan, grasping its potential.
Bellamy responded with a hint of grim satisfaction. "Barbecued Grounders, I like it."
Finn, ever the pragmatist, questioned the feasibility. "Will it work?"
Raven's confidence was evident in her reply. "The wirings are a mess down there, but yeah. You give me enough time, I'll cook them real good," she promised.
In that moment, our strategy shifted from defense to a daring, high-risk counterattack. It was a plan born out of desperation, yet it carried a glimmer of hope. If successful, it could turn the tide in our favor. The stakes were high, but so was our determination to defend our home and survive. With a warm smile directed at Raven, our group of eager individuals set out to tackle the task at hand. Raven, the experienced engineer, took the lead, issuing instructions to Clarke, Finn, and me. Our mission was to carefully inspect the area beneath the towering rocket and delve into the intricate wiring system.
I was the first to make my way down the hatch, a rush of excitement coursing through me as I descended into the dimly lit underbelly of the rocket. The metal ladder rattled slightly beneath my weight, creating an echoing clang in the cavernous space. Once safely on the ground, I extended a helping hand to my sister, guiding her down with a reassuring smile. Our primary objective, as defined by Raven, was to locate the ignition system amidst the labyrinthine network of wires and components. Every detail seemed critical in that moment, as we ventured deeper into the heart of the rocket, feeling a profound sense of responsibility for the mission's success.
In the dimly lit underbelly of the rocket, tension hung heavy in the air as our group desperately searched for the ignition system. Our mission was critical, and every second counted. Clarke's voice cut through the dimness, breaking the silence.
"Kegan, do you see it over there?" Her words were tinged with frustration.
I scoured the maze of wires and components, my heart racing. "No," I responded, my voice reflecting the growing sense of urgency.
"Finn, what about you?" I called out, my eyes darting from one piece of equipment to another.
"Nothing!" Finn's voice held a note of desperation, mirroring our collective frustration.
"Raven, we can't find the ignition system!" Clarke's voice rang out, her concern palpable.
"Raven?" I yelled out, my voice filled with dread when her reply didn't come immediately.
Then, Raven's trembling voice broke through, carrying sheer panic. "I can't feel my legs!"
My heart sank as I imagined the fear and pain she must be experiencing. "Hold on, we're coming!" I yelled, my urgency mounting.
Clarke was the first to navigate her way out of the confined space, skillfully maneuvering through the wires and machinery. I followed closely behind, my mind racing with worry for Raven, who was now alone in the confined space. As we emerged into the dimly lit area outside the rocket, Clarke immediately assessed Raven's condition. Her expertise in such dire situations was evident as she gently helped Raven lean forward. The pain that Raven cried out with as she moved was harrowing to witness, her lower back displaying a gruesome array of bruises. I shared a concerned look with Clarke, and then we both turned our gaze toward Finn, who was trying to process the severity of the situation.
"That bad, huh?" Raven managed a faint, wry laugh, attempting to maintain composure despite the agony coursing through her.
Clarke gently but firmly grabbed Raven's shoulder and eased her back against a nearby crate. "Raven, the bullet's lodged in your spine. You're bleeding internally," Clarke revealed, her voice heavy with concern. A somber silence settled over us, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Raven's life hung in the balance, and we were her only hope.
"What if we could slow the bleeding, would that help?" Finn's desperation drove him to seek a solution, anything that could save our friend.
"Well, of course it would help, but can you tell me how to do that?" Clarke questioned him, her voice filled with a mix of hope and skepticism.
"The Grounders have this stuff, a coagulant. You mentioned Lincoln had some, too," Finn said, grasping at any possible lifeline.
Clarke's mind raced with possibilities. "Yeah, in the box of antidotes."
"I'm betting there's more of it in Lincoln's cave. If I can get there—" Finn began, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
Raven's voice broke through, filled with concern for Finn's safety. "Wait a second, no."
Finn's determination remained unwavering. "I can make it."
"Kegan, tell him he's being an idiot," Raven pleaded, her eyes locking onto mine, searching for support.
"Raven," he sighed, torn between his determination to save her and her plea.
"What? I'm not going to let you die to save me," Raven declared, her determination matching Finn's.
Finn interjected with a stark reality check. "Fine. If you won't let me save you, at least let me save everyone. You're the only one who can fire those rockets. If you die, we all die."
Raven's shoulders slumped in reluctant agreement, knowing that Finn's plan, however risky, was their only chance. Resigned, Finn got up and walked away, determination in every step.
"Finn, wait!" Clarke called, her voice filled with worry and determination, as she chased after him into the unknown, their fates intertwined in the pursuit of a life-saving solution.
Amidst the mounting tension, the distance between Clarke and Raven seemed to vanish, and their proximity spoke volumes about their shared concern for the mission and for each other. With Finn's departure weighing heavily on our minds, I reentered the dimly lit crawl space beneath the rocket, determined to contribute in any way possible. Inside, a labyrinth of wires, components, and shadows surrounded me as I crawled, determined to find the wires that would lead us to the elusive ignition system.
"I don't see anyone. They're too fast!" Monroe's voice crackled through the radio, reflecting the frantic search on the surface.
"I hit... I hit them. I think I hit them," Miller's voice followed, uncertainty and desperation lacing his words as he reported on the firefight.
"Do you see it or don't you?" Raven's voice, edged with urgency, cut through the static, her impatience a reflection of the pressing need to get the rocket operational.
"No. It's a mess down here!" I called out, frustration seeping into my voice as I meticulously combed through the tangled wires.
"It'll be orange. Look harder! You have to find the wire that connects the manual override to the electromagnet. It's not rocket science," Raven urged, her determination unwavering.
"It is rocket science, actually," I grunted, my voice strained as I continued my quest for the orange wire amidst the chaos.
Raven's frustration momentarily gave way to introspection. "Guess we finally found something that you're not good at. I used to be picked first for everything. Earth skills, Zero-G Mech courses, first every time. So how in the hell did I end up here?" Her words carried a mix of frustration and self-reflection.
"Raven? I'd pick you first," I reassured her, my voice sincere and filled with support.
"Of course, you would, I'm awesome," she chuckled softly, a brief moment of levity in the midst of the crisis.
My heart leaped with relief as I finally spotted the orange wire and exclaimed, "Hey, I found it. Orange Wire!" The sense of accomplishment was short-lived, however, as a closer examination revealed the wire's fried and useless state. Dread crept in as I relayed the grim news, "Raven? It's fried, and totally useless. Please don't tell me it's as bad as I think it is."
Raven's question revealed the dire situation: "You know how to splice a wire?"
"No," I admitted, my voice tinged with frustration at my lack of knowledge.
"Then it's worse. Uhhh!" Raven grunted, the weight of the situation bearing down on her.
"Hey, Raven, stop. Just talk me through it," I called out, determined to find a way to salvage our mission.
As we struggled with the damaged wire, chaos unfolded above us. Jasper's voice crackled through the radio, his urgent plea for assistance indicating that the situation on the surface was deteriorating rapidly. The Grounders were relentless in their attacks.
"They're everywhere! Harper, get down! Raven, our mines actually worked!" Jasper's voice conveyed a mixture of awe and urgency.
"Jasper can splice!" Raven yelled, her voice filled with hope.
I swiftly exited the crawl space and rushed to the radio, joining the conversation. "Jasper, we need you in the drop ship right now!" My tone was firm and resolute.
"Negative. We can't give up the West Woods," Bellamy's voice interjected, underscoring the dilemma of holding the vital position versus aiding our desperate situation.
"The West Woods are mined, Bellamy. The Grounders just figured that out. Jasper, get in here!" I insisted, urgency punctuating each word.
"I see one! There! There!" Harper's voice carried panic as she reported sightings of the enemy.
"They're drawing our fire!" Jasper realized, the pieces falling into place.
"Dammit, I'm all out," Harper groaned, her voice filled with frustration.
"They want us to run out of ammo. All gunners, listen up. The Grounders are not attacking, they're making us waste bullets. Don't shoot when they're running laterally," Jasper urgently warned, his tactical insight crucial in this dire moment.
"Jasper's right. Don't fire unless you're sure they're attacking. Repeat, do not fire unless you're sure they're attacking," Bellamy's voice confirmed, his leadership unwavering even in the face of impending danger.
The radio was flooded with more cries for help and distress calls as the Grounders intensified their assault. Panic and chaos reigned, and I couldn't help but wonder where Jasper was in this critical moment. We needed him now more than ever. More time passed, and Jasper finally arrived at the drop ship. Now, both of us were huddled beneath the rocket, our determined focus fixed on following Raven's instructions as we desperately worked to salvage the dire situation and ensure the rocket's ignition for our survival.
As the chaos raged around us, I called out to Raven, my voice strained but determined. "Hey Raven, tell us how this is going to work."
Raven's response came in a mumbled, exhausted tone, a stark contrast to her usual confident demeanor. "I've told you five times. The current flows into the electromagnet. That opens the poppet valve. Rockets fire."
Jasper, who had taken up the critical task of wiring, chimed in, his voice filled with urgency. "Okay, I got the good wire ready to graft on. What's next, Raven? Raven!"
But there was no immediate response from Raven, and a sense of worry began to creep in. "Is she..." I called out to Clarke, my concern deepening.
Clarke's response was tinged with resignation. "Not yet, but soon," she sighed, her eyes scanning the chaotic scene for any sign of our engineer.
Amidst the chaos, a voice pierced through the mayhem, declaring a grim revelation. "They've broken through! There are hundreds of them! Game over, man!"
"Finish it," I urged Jasper, knowing that time was running out and that our survival depended on the success of this mission.
Jasper muttered to himself as he continued working, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders. "Current to the valve to barbecue. Current to the valve to barbecue."
Outside the drop ship, the world seemed to have descended into madness, and our desperate mission to get the rockets ready felt like our last hope in the face of overwhelming odds.
"Is that from the Ark?" Fox's voice broke through the chaos.
"That is the Ark," I confirmed, realizing the scale of destruction that had befallen our people in space.