Her Weakness

Chapter 21

The officer walks out of the house with a self-satisfied smirk. Red is splattered across his face. I do not need my years as a warrior to tell that it is blood. Her blood. And he wears it with pride, like a true savage.

Adrenaline pulses through my veins and my arm muscles flex. I want to snap his neck so much I nearly get up to do just that and get us discovered. But I know there is a chance, however slim, that she is alive. If so, we will need to get to her as soon as we can. If only Octavia or I were trained as healers as Clarke was. I fear I may not be of much use. If she is alive. That words strikes fear like I have never known in my heart. If. She is most likely already dead. She was shot. If only that damn officer would not wear her blood as a trophy, as proof that I cannot deny. She could be bleeding out as I think.

I grab Octavia's arm. We have a stare down, arguing mentally when to go to her. She knows I am right and nods. We slip out of our hiding place which I have grown to despise. I do not like the hiding plan, it makes me feel weak.

We move slowly around the camp, crouching low and moving silently. I can tell Indra has taught her well. If there were any hint of doubt about her teaching ability, it is now erased.

It is my fault. The thought rings in my head and it will not stop tearing up my buried emotions. I lo--I am weak for Clarke. And it is my fault. She was taken on my watch. I have known where she is for days and have done nothing but watch. Watch as new bruises appear. Watch as her strength wavers. Watch as she begins to doubt. Doubt that I will come for her, that I will rescue her. That anyone will. She may have fooled the soldiers, but I know her. She is afraid for her life. As I am sure she will fear for mine when we rescue her. She will be alive. She has to be. I cannot lose someone I lo--care for again. Once is bad enough.

We slow to a stop on the surrounding hill behind her house. They are overconfident, they have no fence. Just a few patrolling guards as defense. They believe that this close to their command center, they are unbeatable.

"If they discover us, make sure they have no way to communicate," I murmur to Octavia. I do not need a verbal response to know that she will do it. My eyes are trained on the tiny house. She is in there.

I am coming, Clarke. Please, be alive.

I walk ahead of Octavia and duck into the house through the 'secret entrance' through the back. The soldiers stand outside, the rusting door barely attached yet it is closed.

The cheering of soldiers fills my ears with sounds of happiness. They are celebrating.

It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. But what I see is unmistakable.

Clarke is crumpled on the ground like a toy tossed away. She is lying in a slowly growing pool of her own blood.