xviii. war time
we are grounders (part 2)

AS IT TURNED out, Sawyer missed quite a lot. While she and Raven were underneath the dropship, working on how to get the front hatch open and getting shot in the process, several major events took place without her knowledge.

Murphy hung Bellamy, almost succeeding in killing the man, before he used the rest of their gunpowder supply to blow a hole in the side of the dropship. After his daring escape into the surrounding forest, Clarke and Finn appeared back in camp. They explained how the Grounders kidnapped them, forcing Clarke to try and save the life of a girl injured by Raven's bomb. When she failed, the two of them were almost killed. But to their luck, Lincoln helped them slip out of the Grounders custody unscathed.

Sawyer showed up in time to hear the last of the chaos. The Grounders were on the move. The war they anticipated for the last few weeks finally arrived on their doorstep. And with it, two vastly different ways on how to face it. Bellamy wanted everyone to stay and fight for the home they made, while Clarke wanted them all to leave and seek refuge from a friend of Lincoln who lived toward the ocean.

It did not surprise Sawyer when the delinquents chose to run. She could not blame them. Despite their preparations and gun training, her people were not fighters. Not like the Grounders. They would have faced them, if they had no other choice, but Clarke offered them a way out without bloodshed. They would be insane not to take it.

Sawyer perched on a makeshift bed inside the dropship. Her jacket had been removed from her shoulders, while she pulled the top half of her jumpsuit down far enough to expose the wound on her left thigh. She would have rolled up her pantleg, saving her from sitting in front of everyone in just her tank-top and boy-shorts, but the fabric failed to move passed her knee. Clarke, who had a series of bruises and cuts on her cheeks and nose, faced her with a red-hot blade in her hand. Sawyer cringed at the sight, having watched her use the same thing on Raven a few minutes earlier.

"I would prefer to stitch it up, but we don't have the time," Clarke voiced after she examined the long and deep, bullet graze, meeting the Wesley girl's wide gaze. "This is gonna hurt."

Sawyer blew out a long breath through her lips and gripped the bed's edge until her knuckles lost all color. "Just get it over with."

Clarke pressed her lips together and lowered the blade down onto Sawyer's leg. As soon as the hot metal came into contact with her skin, Sawyer screamed. The immense temperature of the blade fused her skin together, wafting the smell of her burning flesh into her nose. Pain, sharp and blinding, encased her entire leg, radiating down to her toes and through her stomach. On some level, the cauterization of her wound hurt more than the bullet that ripped across her thigh.

After an agonizing moment, Clarke removed the blade from the wound. Sawyer breathed heavily, trying to rid herself of the immense pain that consumed her thigh. Sweat broke out on her forehead as she looked down to the red, bubbled skin that had been a bullet graze.

"Fuck," Sawyer said through a long exhale, "I think the bullet hurt less."

"I don't understand," Finn spoke from where he stood next to the bed, holding Raven's hand as she struggled with the gunshot wound in her stomach. "How did Murphy get a gun?"

Sawyer lifted her head to meet Bellamy's gaze. Neither one of them wanted to go into detail about the incident with Murphy. "Long story," they replied.

"We got lucky," Raven stated, wincing as she shifted on the fabrics that made up the bed. "If Murphy hit the fuel tank, instead of me and Sawyer, we'd all be dead."

Clarke's brows furrowed. "Wait, there's rocket fuel down there? Enough to build a bomb?"

"Enough to build a hundred bombs," Raven told the blonde, "if we had any gunpowder left."

Sawyer wrapped a cloth around her thigh, which Clarke handed her, and then stood to pull up her jumpsuit and slide on her jacket. Of course they had no more gunpowder. Murphy really did them in when he decided to enact his revenge on Bellamy.

"Let's get back to the Reapers," Bellamy changed the topic of conversation.

Clarke informed them of a group she, Finn, and Lincoln encountered in a system of mines several miles from their camp. She called them Reapers. They did not elaborate on them, but from their facial expressions, Sawyer figured they were worse than the Grounders. If that were even possible.

"Maybe they'll help us," Bellamy continued as he held Lincoln's journal in his hand, looking at a hand-drawn image of a man with black marks that covered his face. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?"

Sawyer did not miss the look Clarke and Finn gave one another.

Clarke shook her head. "Not this enemy."

"We saw them. Trust me, it's not an option," Finn added.

Sawyer nodded. "Alright, no Reapers, then."

"There's no time for this," Clarke said, trying to steer them back to the situation at hand.

Finn glanced down at his ex-girlfriend then to the Griffin girl. "Can she walk, or not?"

Clarke thought for a moment and said, "no. We have to carry her."

Raven's face scrunched. "The hell you will. I'm good to go," she strained, trying to push herself off the bed.

Clarke reached out and stopped the Reyes girl, hardening her stare. "Hey, listen to me. That bullet is still inside you. If by some miracle, there's no internal bleeding, it might hold until we get somewhere safe. But you are not walking there. Is that clear?"

Raven sighed, falling back onto the bed with a nod.

Finn released his hold on Raven's hand and started for the dropship's exit. "I'll get the stretcher."

Bellamy scoffed after him. "Can't run away fast enough, huh? Real brave."

Finn stopped, turning back to the man. "Dying in a fight you can't win isn't brave, Bellamy. It's stupid."

Bellamy forward until the two of them were face to face. "Spoken like every coward who's ever run from a fight."

Sawyer rolled her eyes. "Okay, enough." She moved to place herself next to them, ready to intervene if the need arose. Her eyes flicked between them as she said, "it's been settled. We're leaving."

Bellamy broke his stare-off with Finn and turned to her. "If they follow? It's a hundred and twenty mile walk to the ocean."

Sawyer did not have a solid answer, but they were out of time to do anything else. "We'll have to risk it."

Bellamy's flat expression did not waver.

"Look, we're wasting time," Finn exclaimed as he made another move for the exit. "If he wants to stay, he can stay."

Clarke whirled after the Collins boy. "No, he can't." When Finn disappeared through the parachute covered hatch, she turned to where Bellamy remained. Still angered by how no one chose his side. "We can't do this without you, Bellamy."

Bellamy huffed, meeting the blondes gaze. "What do you want me to say, Clarke?"

"I want you to say that you're with us," Clarke almost pleaded with him. "Those kids out there," she gestured behind her to the dropship's exit, "they listen to you."

"They're lining up to go. They listen to you and Sawyer more," Bellamy countered.

Sawyer sighed and interjected into their conversation. "She gave them an easy out." The eldest Blake's attention shifted to her. "But, they were willing to fight and die for you, earlier. They look up to you, Bellamy, and if you stay, I know they will, too. But if that happens, a lot of them are going to die."

Bellamy's expression faltered, prompting Clarke to add one last statement.

"You inspire them, Bellamy." Clarke pressed her lips together and stepped back. "I'm afraid we're gonna need that again before this day is through."

_______

Soon after Sawyer and Clarke talked Bellamy into their plan of action, all of the delinquents packed their things and were ready to leave camp. They traveled light, only taking what they could carry. Any more would slow them down.

Sawyer adjusted the strap of her pack that rested across her chest, watching her people crowd together as they filed through the open gate. Her heart constricted at the sight. For the last month, they worked hard to establish their camp and made the place their own. Now, they would have to leave it behind and never step foot within it walls again.

Sawyer's gaze swept over the empty clearing, taking in their home for the last time. After one final scan, her attention fell on a lone figure next to the still lit fire. Bellamy. She sighed, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets as she made her way over to him. A second later, Clarke joined them.

"You did good here, Bellamy," Clarke told the eldest Blake.

Bellamy frowned. "Eighteen dead."

"Eighty-two alive," Clarke stated, giving him a tight-lipped grin. "You did good."

"We did good," Sawyer corrected, bringing her co-leaders to look toward her.

Bellamy did not appear entirely convinced. He leaned down and grabbed a metal bucket set on the ground. In one motion, he dumped the water it held out onto the fire and sent a plume of steam into the air.

Sawyer, Clarke, and Bellamy turned away from the doused flames, joining the other delinquents in their escape from the Grounders.

_______

They trekked through the forest and away from their camp, clustered together with guns held at the ready. Sawyer managed to stay on her own two feet, despite the burning sensation that shot down her thigh with every step. She walked alongside Clarke and Bellamy near the back of the group, making sure that everyone stayed together and did not stray too far.

For the most part, they all stayed silent. None of them up for much conversation.

Sawyer ignored the pain in her leg as they continued on. At least, until everyone in front of her came to a stop. Her brows furrowed, before she looked to her co-leaders. "Why're we stopping?"

Bellamy shook her head. "Don't know."

Before anyone could say more, Jasper's familiar voice bellowed through the trees. "Grounders!"

Sawyer's eyes widened. She jumped into action, just in time to mold into the mass of delinquents running for the safety of their camp.

They found themselves back within their walls faster than it took them to leave. Sawyer gritted her teeth as her cauterized wound jostled beneath its makeshift bandage. Her location at the rear of the group made it so she had been one of the first to reach the camp. She did not hesitate, climbing the nearest platform to peer over the wall. She watched the rest of the delinquents race through the open gate, before it was sealed up tight and then turned her stare to the trees.

Sawyer could not see anything other than the green foliage that consumed the forest. No movement, and certainly no Grounders.

Bellamy clambered onto the platform next to the Wesley girl, raising his rifle to peer through the scope. He scanned the land beyond their walls, but came to the same conclusion. "Where are they? Why aren't they attacking?"

Clarke appeared at their sides and followed their gazes until her expression fell. "Because we're doing exactly what they wanted us to do."

Both Sawyer and Bellamy looked to the girl with creased brows. "What're you talking about?" the latter questioned.

Clarke turned away from the wall and said, "Lincoln said the scouts would be the first to arrive."

"If it's just scouts," Octavia voiced from where she stood near the bottom of the platform, "we can fight our way out. That's what Lincoln would do."

Bellamy scoffed and moved to jump to the ground beside his sister. "We're done doing what that Grounder would do. We tried it, and now Drew is dead. You want to be next?"

Sawyer pressed her lips together at the reminder. Drew, the outgoing and always smiling boy, now dead because a Grounder threw a metal disc and impaled his skull.

"That Grounder saved our lives," Finn exclaimed, standing close by. "I agree with Octavia. For all we know, there's one scout out there."

"One scout with insanely good aim," Jasper quipped from the opposite side of the platform. His gun raised to watch the forest.

Octavia shifted her attention to the two girl still stood on the wooden structure. "Sawyer, Clarke, we can still do this."

Sawyer was no so sure. They tried to run, and Drew ended up dead. If they tried again, the Grounders could pick them off until there were none of them left. They could risk it, or they could stay and fight. Neither option was great, but at least if they, fought they stood a chance. In the forest, the Grounders had the advantage. But in their camp, they had the upper hand.

Right?

"Looking to you, Your Highness. Princess," Bellamy voiced, setting his stare on the girls. "What's it gonna be? Run and get picked off out in the open, or stand and fight back?"

Sawyer chewed on her bottom lip. It started to scare her how similar her and Bellamy's thought became. Although, in that moment, she chose to ignore it. She released a long breath and looked to Clarke. Both girls' eyes met. Their stares identical. They knew what they had to do.

"Clarke," Finn spoke and pulled the blonde's gaze to him, "if we're still here when Tristan gets here..."

"Lincoln said 'scouts'. More than one," Clarke cut him off. "He said, 'get home before the scouts arrive'. Finn, they're already here."

Sawyer looked to Bellamy and shrugged. "You've got your fight, Blake."

Bellamy nodded. "Okay, then." He turned to where the rest of the delinquents gathered in the center of camp and called out, "this is what we've been preparing for. Kill them, before they kill us. Gunners, to your posts. Use the tunnels to get in and out. From now one, the gate stays closed."

Everyone scattered, following the plan of action devised over the last few weeks. Sawyer's stomach clenched as the Gunners disappeared into the foxholes. With war so close on the horizon, she knew that she would not see many of them ever again. And she hated that more than she hated the Grounders.

_______

"We've got twenty-five rifles with twenty rounds each – give or take," Bellamy explained as he, Sawyer, Clarke, Finn, and Raven gathered in the dropship. "Roughly five hundred rounds of ammo." He glanced toward to where Clarke knelt next to a seated Raven, and Finn stood next to them. "While you two were gone, we made some improvements. Thanks to Raven, the Gully is mined." He gestured to the indented portion that represented what they called the Gully in their scale model of the camp.

"Partially mined," Raven corrected from where she sat in one of the dropship's chairs. Sweat coated her forehead, while her olive skin paled to a more sickly green. "Thanks to Murphy."

Sawyer huffed at the boy's name. Murphy really did screw them over.

"Still, it's the main route in," Bellamy proceeded. "If the Grounders use it, we'll know. She also built grenades." He picked up one of the cylindrical grenades set on the table in front of him. There were less than six.

Clarke took notice of the number when she stood from Raven's side. "It's not many."

"Again, thank you, Murphy," Raven muttered through a wince.

"We'll make them count," Bellamy stated. "If the Grounders make it through the front gate, guns and grenades should force them back."

Clarke quirked a brow. "And then?"

Sawyer, Bellamy, and Raven exchanged glances. They knew Clarke would not like what came next.

"Then we close the door and pray," Raven said.

Clarke snapped to the mechanic and then to her co-leaders. "And pray what? That the ship keeps them out? Because it won't."

Sawyer sighed. "We know. We'll just have to make sure that the Grounders don't make it through the gate."

Bellamy nodded and lifted his radio, pressing on the button to speak, "all foxholes, listen up. Keep your eyes and ears open. Inflict casualties, as many as possible. You hold them off long enough to make them turn back. That's the plan."

"That's always your plan," Finn shot toward the eldest Blake. "Just like the bomb at the bridge."

Sawyer rolled her eyes. She did not know how Finn expected them to survive against the Grounders without violence. They tried the peace approach, and that almost ended with Clarke's death.

"Damn right," Bellamy snapped in return. "You got a better idea?"

"It can't be that simple," Clarke voiced, drawing everyone's attention to her. She lifted her stare from where it fell to their model of camp to where Raven sat. "You said there's fuel in those rockets, right? Enough to build a hundred bombs?"

"I also said we've got no gunpowder left," Raven reminded the Griffin girl.

"I don't want to build a bomb," Clarke replied, glancing to her co-leaders. "I want to blast off."

The realization fell over Sawyer at Clarke's words. She smiled.

Raven must have figured it out, as well. "Draw them in close. Fire the rockets. A ring of fire."

Sawyer nodded. "That could work."

Bellamy's lips twitched into a small grin. "Barbecued Grounders. I like it."

Finn's brows furrowed, looking to the Reyes girl. "Will it work?"

Raven met their stares and said, "you give me enough time, I'll cook 'em real good."

Sawyer's heart swelled. It might be a long shot, but they might just have a chance.

<January 22, 2020>

One more chapter to go! Get ready to relive the Season 1 finale, and it's heartbreak, all over again.

Don't forget to vote and comment.

-Jordan

P.S. Unedited chapter.