Taming Chaos // J.M // The 100

Chapter 27

Ethan glances at Bellamy, "You ready?" And then Clarke.

It's taken almost a hundred years for people from the Ark to touch the ground, and this is what it comes down to.

War.

Maybe there was a reason they were sent to live in space.

Bellamy sighs through his nose, "As ready as we'll ever be." 

Nodding, Ethan adjusts his hair, tightening it out of his face. He pushes through the awaiting crowd to get to the front and holds a hand out flat to gesture towards the gunners, signalling for the doors to open. Like dominos, the remaining eighty-two out of a hundred, settle into prepared stances.

The soldiers take position around the sides, protecting the cargo and a stretcher holding Raven. Octavia takes lead by the front and Ethan takes the back.

It's surprisingly quiet. And it stays like that for ten solid minutes.

He jinxes them.

"Go back!"

Ethan ducks, ushering people back towards camp. He keeps down low as he jogs to the front, glancing at the blade sliced with pinpoint aim between glassy, wide eyes, and grabs the boy's unmoving ankles. Miller lifts his other side and nods at him, circling around trees to keep some cover.

The gates shut behind Ethan. He levers the kid's body onto the dirt, tearing his shaking hands away to tuck under his arms. He can't look at it.

They might have weapons, but they'll never have accuracy like the grounders.

Clarke chooses to stay. Without the knowledge of how many scouts there are, and how much time they have before the troops' rally, she comes up with the craziest idea yet. To use the dropships rocket fuel and blast off, frying the grounders left alive after the foxholes.

The thought of all the dead bodies bound to be littering their camp makes Ethan sick. But what can he do? He has to fight for his people.

"Hey, no - if you're gonna make one there then you gotta block both sides." Ethan points, directing Tyesha's eyes to the fence, "Otherwise they can get you from there."

"Alright."

She knocks down the support beam holding up her blockade and looks around, "Where abouts, Ethan?"

"Huh?" He turns back around, covering the grave-like hole he'd dug with a metal sheet. Last resort hiding place.

They'd set up lookouts and gunmen in the high points where Zack - lost but not forgotten - had hidden during his games. Currently, they were working on defensive tactics, blockades, back ups, secret passages.

The ideas, suggestions and orders went from Ethan to Bellamy to the rest of the delinquents. To Ethan it was the easiest way, saves being scoffed at by the hundred because they wouldn't listen to him.

But he's being proven wrong, right this very second, blinking at Tyesha.

This is new.

"Where should I set up the next one?" She repeats herself, wide eyes set on him, dark skin glowing beside the fire.

"Down there, I guess. Uh, connect it to the gun station so we have more room to duck back for ammo."

Tyesha nods, moving wooden stakes and metal sheets one by one.

Ethan smothers his smile and gets back to it, stomping on the cover for the hole to see how well it'd hold up. Deeming it fit, he marks it with chalk.

What's also new is the rifle hanging over his shoulder. The weight feels foreign, and wrong. But after another one of Bellamy's no argue stares and another "just in case" speech, he'd swung it over his back to get him off his case.