Becoming Air (The 100)

Chapter Eighteen

The sounds of battle could be heard long before the 100's camp came into view. Alrean held back Bellamy as they neared the wall. "If you rush in there, you'll be killed and you'll do Octavia no good dead." She warned.

He swallowed, frustration written on his face.

They peered into the clearing, and the sight was revolting. Blood littered the ground, as bodies fell around around them.

"Oh my go- Octavia!"

Before Arlean or Lincoln could stop him, Bellamy had jumped up and ran across the clearing to where he had spotted his sister in the hands of a grounder.

"Let go of her, you son of a bitch!" Bellamy landed a kick to the grounder's gut but he then hit Bellamy square across the face, on his already bruised cheek. Bellamy went down and Arlean swore under her breath as she cleared the wall and ran towards Octavia.

She reached the pair, a landed a fist on the man's forearm, causing his fist to fly open.

"Run, Octavia!" She screamed, ducking beneath the man's next punch.

She aimed a kick at his thigh, her ribs screaming in protest, but he dodged to the left, following up with an elbow to her throat. She dropped the the ground, sweeping with her legs at his ankles. He jumped over her leg, spinning around with a kick ready for her midsection.

She blocked the kick with her left arm, and wrapped her right around his leg, jerking him in her direction.

But instead of fighting the motion like most would, he let his standing leg collapse, loosening her grip and kicking his foot up towards her face. She barely dodged the blow.

Impossible, she thought, nobody know that move except-

An impossible arc of pain shot through her as the man's foot connected with her ribs. Letting out a yell, she hit the ground.

"Arlean!" She heard Bellamy yell as her vision blured.

But things became clear in her mind. The fluidity of the fight, as if they were in sync, the familiarity of the moves, the timing of the blows- it all made sense.

The man stood over her and she felt cold metal at her throat, the sharp prick of a blade.

But then her vision became, sickeningly sharp as reality hit her with the force of the whole world. The man's face came into her clear view and she stared into his eyes.

"Carter?"