SOLDIER
book one
It's been 97 years since a nuclear explosion radiated life on Earth and life support on The Ark is now failing. In a desperate attempt to grant the citizens of the SpaceCraft more time, 100 juvenile delinquents are sent down to the...
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FEELING exhausted and embarrassed, Murphy wiped the trace amounts of his blood from the knife down the leg of his trousers before passing it back to Vivienne. She secured it back into her waistband with nothing more than a thankful nod.
"We didn't make it to Mount Weather," Finn began explaining. The atmosphere among the camp had drastically shifted upon the group's return; Octavia had a deep, gashing wound down her leg, and they had returned empty-handed.
"What the hell happened out there?" Bellamy demanded, his arm securely wrapped around his limping sister's waist.
"We were attacked," Clarke said, her breaths deep as she tried to calm herself, her eyes still wide with lingering shock.
A sudden wave of anxiousness swarmed Vivienne's gut. "Attacked? By what?" she asked slowly,unsure if she really wanted an answer.
"Not what. Who," Finn corrected, his words sending a sharp shiver down Vivienne's body and instilling fear throughout the entire camp. "It turns out, when the last man from the ground died on The Ark, he wasn't the last Grounder."
"Everything we thought we knew about the ground is wrong. There are people here. Survivors," Clarke continued, her gaze sweeping across the large group as she spoke. "The good news is, that means we can survive. Radiation won't kill us."
"Yeah, the bad news is, The Grounders will," Finn finished, sitting himself on a tree stump to rest.
Vivienne shut her eyes with a slight shake of her head, struggling to believe what she had just been told. Trembling, she released a deep breath. "Where's Jasper?" she asked, her voice full of concern.
Clarke turned to face her. "Jasper was hit. They took him," she informed her, her gaze falling solemnly towards the ground.
Suddenly, Clarke's eyes narrowed, her eyebrows creasing as she focused on Vivienne's bare and bruised wrist. "Where's your wristband?" she questioned, suddenly grabbing Vivienne's arm and running her thumb over the sore flesh. Vivienne quickly snatched her arm back.
"How many?" Clarke then asked.
"Twenty-four and counting," Murphy's voice hummed, speaking over Vivienne who stammered on her words.
"You idiots," Clarke hissed, her words harsh, causing Vivienne's head to snap up, meeting her eyes as a wave of shame washed over her. "Life support on The Ark is failing. That's why they brought us down here. They need to know the ground is survivable again, and we need their help against whoever is out there. If you take off your wristbands, you're not just killing them. You're killing us!"
The crowd pondered Clarke's words, a momentary doubt washing over them, causing Bellamy to silently panic. He feared the consequences of losing the power and influence he held over the camp
"We're stronger than you think," he began, carefully selecting his words as if his fate hung in the balance. "Don't listen to her. She's one of the privileged. If they come down, she'll have it good. How many of you can say the same?" Bellamy surveyed the crowd as he spoke, attempting to discern their thoughts and where their loyalties lay - with him or Clarke.
Mutters of debate broke out amongst the delinquents, and Vivienne watched intently, studying their uncertain faces with doubts of her very own as her fingers clenched around her discolored wrist.
"We can take care of ourselves. That wristband on your arm? It makes you a prisoner. We are not prisoners anymore! They say they'll forgive your crimes. I say...you're not criminals!" Bellamy's voice rose with conviction. "You're fighters, survivors! The Grounders should worry about us!" The crowd erupted into another round of cheers, and Bellamy felt a surge of pride wash over him, confident that he had firmly established himself as the leader.
•••
AS Vivienne wrung out a piece of torn, dampened fabric, cool water trailed down her arm before she brought it to Murphy's neck. His legs were parted, creating enough space for Vivienne to kneel awkwardly between his thighs while he sat perched higher up on a fallen tree. Her eyes remained trained on his wounds as she gently tended to them, wiping away the drying crusts of Murphy's blood.
He study her every move, his gaze narrowed into thin slits as if trying to decipher her intentions. Murphy kept his hands tightly clenched at his sides, the tension evident in the rigid ball of his fists. His jaw remained clenched with suppressed nerves, though he refused to acknowledge the unease stirring within him as he allowed someone to be so close to him.
"You can relax, Murphy," Vivienne said gently, her focus still on his neck. "I wouldn't dare pick a fight with you."
Murphy let out a subdued, fleeting laugh, easing the tension in his jaw while keeping his fists tightly clenched.
Vivienne attempted to lighten the mood as she inspected the wound on his neck. "It's not deep, I reckon you'll survive," she quipped.
"Is that your professional opinion?" Murphy teased, his tone light, earning a smile from the blonde as she looked up at him through her thick lashes, a genuine laugh escaping her lips. After a short silence, Murphy spoke again, catching her slightly off-guard. "Why did you take off your wristband?"
The smile on her lips faltered, and her eyes dropped to the dirt floor, suddenly feeling her guard raise again. "I have my reasons," Vivienne told him quietly, her voice hesitant.
Something quickly shifted in Murphy's eyes, a flicker of recognition passing through them as he remembered Vivienne's background, her lineage. "I thought someone as privileged as you would want the rest of their people to follow us down," he spat, bitterness evident in his voice as his teeth clenched tightly together.
Any remnants of a smile vanished from Vivienne's face, replaced by a look of surprise as she gazed up at him with wide eyes, taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor. "You don't know me, don't pretend that you do," she told him, her voice timid and quiet.
"Yeah, I bet life was really shit for you on The Ark," he muttered back, sarcasm thick in his tone and a hint of bitterness.
Vivienne dropped the damp cloth to the floor and took a step back from the boy, her eyes welling with pent up tears that she refused to let fall. "Don't be a dick, Murphy," she retorted, her scowl deepening as she prepared to walk away. But before she could, Bellamy's voice called out from nearby.
"Murphy! Vivienne!"
Sparing nothing but a mere glance towards him, Vivienne turned her back to Murphy and made her way towards Bellamy, who waited expectantly with Clarke and Wells at his side. "You two," the eldest Blake started, pointing a finger at the two of them. "Come with me. Atom? My sister doesn't leave this camp. Is that clear?" he instructed, his voice firm and commanding.
"I don't need a babysitter," Octavia, who was at Atom's side, argued, but Bellamy paid her no attention, not wasting time debating it.
"Anybody touches her, they answer to me. Let's go."
