"The sky is the source of light in nature and governs everything." -John Constable
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97 years after a nuclear apocalypse killed everything on Earth...
How could anybody do the things you did so easily?
And I say I don't care, I say that I'm fine
But you know I can't let it go
I've tried, I've tried, I've tried for so long
It takes strength to forgive, but I don't feel strong
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The horn continues to blow as the four run through the woods. The fog burns. They cough loudly when suddenly Finn comes to a halt.
He bends down and opens a hatch. It's the car they found earlier on the way to the river.
The sisters go in first and then the boys. They quickly shut the door as the fog spreads over the top of the car. Some of it gets inside as they quickly shove jackets and cloth against the doors to stop it from entering any more.
It's been nearly twenty minutes. They sit in the cramped, sideways car. Skye stands and wipes dirt off the window. "The fog is still out there."
Clarke sighs. "Look, we should just make a run for it. Jasper can't wait much longer."
Finn shakes his head. "Us dying in a cloud of acid fog isn't gonna help Jasper." He turns and finds some kind of compartment. He opens it to find a bottle filled with brownish liquid.
"Is that..." Clarke starts.
"Booze. Hooch. Rotgut." He says with a smile, opening the bottle.
"Careful Finn it could be-"
He takes a swig and winces. "Whiskey, I think. Better than the moonshine on agro station."
He tries offering the bottle to Wells who pushes it away. "Alcohol is toxic."
Finn laughs. "This is Earth. Everything's toxic. Plus, it's a time-honored rite of passage."
Wells sighs, glancing over at Skye. "We'll pass."
She cocks her head at that.
"There is no 'we' anymore." She snatches the bottle from Finn's hand and sniffs it before bringing the bottle to her mouth. She takes a large sip and coughs, handing it to Clarke who willingly accepts.
"Far be it for me to stand in the way of tradition." The blonde says before drinking too.
For the next few hours, the three pass the bottle of whiskey around, taking turns drinking. Wells refuses to even look at the bottle.
