From The Ashes | The 100 S5 [Bellarke]

|12| Ogeda

As she waited for darkness to come, Madi looked for a way into the camp. Her plan to rescue Clarke seemed more and more stupid with each passing hour, but the thought of leaving her caretaker never crossed her mind.

She was Clarke's only chance.

When the shadows of night fell, Madi left her little clump of bushes and crept towards the stranger's camp. They had lights on the metal wall they'd built, but the white beams only made the shadows darker.

Soon, she was by the wall, the quiet conversations of the guards drifting down to her ears. They were talking about her and Clarke.

"Captain says we might have an army after us soon. The prisoner still won't talk, even after Doc's been with her for a few hours now."

"I saw Trent leaving medical; he said Mikeson let the girl escape."

"Mikeson's too damn soft. Remember when he argued against Cassia Reynold's brother's sentence?"

Mikeson was the one who had told Madi to run.

Moving away from the voices, she hugged the warm sides of the wall until she found the spot she'd observed from the bushes. It was close to the stranger's ship, right next to a light, but there was a dip in the ground through which she'd seen past the wall. The thick, rough-edged grass hid the small hole, but hours of nothing but time to look at the camp had enabled Madi to see her way in.

The fit underneath was tight, and the fear of being caught without the ability to run made the space seem even smaller. But a minute of frantic wriggling, she found herself on the other side.

Madi had infiltrated the stranger's camp.

~ ~ ~

As Icarus got to his feet, brushing grit and grass from the seat of his jumpsuit, his mind was racing a million, trillion directions. He'd decided to help the colony's prisoners escape . . . but how? His demoted position was a large obstacle, but there were plenty more.

Still, he'd find a way. He had to. If he didn't, the grounders would see his people as a true threat, not just the possibility of one. His father's fears would be realized.

The whole situation seemed like an unbreakable paradox that, somehow, Icarus needed to find a way to break.

No pressure.

First, he had to find a way to talk to the prisoners and let them know he was on their side. Leaving the shadow of the Gagarin's towering hull, Icarus tried to appear as normal and non-traitorous as possible. Based on the way his heart was thundering in his chest, so fast he felt it pulsing in his throat, he wondered if that was even possible. Something moved in his peripheral vision, and he warily glanced in that direction.

A figure had just pulled itself under the camp's wall, and when it straightened, Icarus saw the face of the young girl he'd protected in the woods. As soon as he saw her, she met his surprised gaze with her own. He saw her tense up, probably thinking he was going to attack.

"Wait!" Icarus hissed, lifting his hands in a show of peace. "I'm not going to hurt you, okay?"

She didn't respond, but she didn't move either, so that was a good thing.

"It's Madi, right?" Icarus continued softly, glancing around to see if there was anyone nearby. Nothing. They were alone . . . for now. "My name is Icarus. I'm . . . I'm a friend."

"You took Clarke," the girl said, her soft tone heavy with accusation.

Guilt roiled thick and heavy in Icarus' stomach. It was his fault Clarke was being tortured.