From The Ashes | The 100 S5 [Bellarke]

|18| Fate Is Cruel

6 years and 9 days after Praimfaya

Bellamy didn't remember leaving the rover.

One moment he watched in stunned horror as Clarke crumpled to the ground, and the next he was bent over her, gathering her up in his arms. At his touch, her eyes fluttered open for a moment, silver-tinted in the glare of the rover's headlights.

"Bellamy . . ." she murmured, her words lost in the raging fury of the storm around them, but he knew the shape of his name on her lips.

"I'm here," he said, holding her tight. "I'm here, Clarke. I'm here."

Black blood coated his fingers, slick and warm.

No.

Clarke's eyes slipped shut.

Oh, no.

Her head lolled back, her features going slack.

No, no, no, please, no!

~ ~ ~

"Cover him!" Murphy snapped when Bellamy leapt out of the rover.

Wick and Raven lifted their guns at the ready, peering through the lashing rain of the storm. The deluge stung his face as the wind tossed the boiling-hot water in every direction. Oh, how he'd missed Earth!

"No, no, no," the girl at the wheel chanted, her voice sliding up with panic. "No, she's not dead. She's not dead."

A bullet struck the side of the rover, just a few inches from Murphy's head. This was an absolutely necessary moment, he thought, aiming at one of the blurry figures of the converging colonists and squeezed the trigger.

The dark figure fell, blending in with the muddy ground, but the bullets kept coming.

"Hurry up, Bellamy!" Murphy yelled.

~ ~ ~

This wasn't happening.

Icarus sat curled against the back of the vehicle's driver seat, his shoulder pressing into the wire frame behind the canvas material. He'd guessed what had happened when the lone shot rang out, and Bellamy hurtled out of the rover with a strangled cry.

He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, squeezing his eyes shut so tight that colors bloomed into existence behind his closed lids.

More shots rang out, spelling death for those of his people who were trying to stop them. It was as if he was the one pulling the triggers to end their lives, traded for those of the strangers.

The blood of his people was on his hands.

~ ~ ~

Clarke lay terribly still in Bellamy's arms as he picked her up, a dark stain spreading across the material of her shirt. As he ran for the rover, his boots sliding in the muddy, steaming ground, he wished this was a dream. For even nightmares were something you could wake up from.

But this was reality – inescapable and terrible.

As soon as he was in the back of the rover, Clarke cradled against him in the dark, cramped space, Murphy leaned forward and slammed the doors shut.

"Go!" Raven shouted.

The rover tires spun wildly in the mud for a moment, bullets ricocheting off the sides of the vehicle with sharp, ringing pings, before it lurched forward into the dark. They passed the bent gates, the shots of the colonists chasing feebly after them, and then they were out.