After the End [ The 100 ]

15. Hopefully she talks about him this much, too

twilight's last gleaming

[eiden]

I'm following Clarke into the drop ship. For some reason I feel like the Ark has just ruined something for me, but I can't put my finger on it.

Oh right, my life.

Well, that's just the easy answer. It was definitely something else.

"Clarke! I was just coming to get you," Finn exclaims. He glances at me, and the three of us walk through the tarp. "Did you make a wish?" he asks with a huff.

"What? No," Clarke answers. She goes over to Bex, and there's a blond guy standing over her. He's handsome: longish hair, blue eyes, tall, thin.

Ali might've mentioned wishing on meteors before. I think she called them— oh yeah, shooting stars. It's not a thing people from Alpha Station recognize; we believe in science not weird myths.

"We need to check it out, get some gear," Clarke says. She looks back at Bex. "How are you feeling?"

"Like it's time to go. It's not like I broke my ribs. I'm not passing that up."

"Yes you are," Clarke answers easily. "Todd, make sure she gets some rest. You should've seen what your friend did."

"Ay ay captain, and call me the general. Can't pull a disappearing act on me, Bex."

My mouth curves in a smile as my shoulders raise in a light laugh.

Bex covers her face with her hand. "Less jokes, Todd."

"Hey, now we're both crippled," he jokes with a laugh.

My smile stretches into a slight grimace, teeth exposed and looking slightly away.

Bex agrees with him though. "My disability rations trump yours. You heal too easily."

What an interesting friendship.

I send Clarke a side look. "That's our cue," I say quietly. I cross my arms and turn to lead the way out of the drop ship.

They flank me, following me to where we keep our primitive and drop ship-crafted weapons.

"Either of you get a good look at it?" I ask.

"I'm thinking cargo pod — it was too small to be a drop ship. Think they sent some weapons down?" Finn goes.

If the Ark plans to follow, arming us would be their stupidest choice yet. "No," I answer quickly.

"They wouldn't arm us. Could be... nutrition packs, medical supplies. There'd be a radio," Clarke says in agreement.

Speaking of weapons, I pick up a spear and inspect it. The light-colored wood is carved nicely. I've never tried to use one of these before — it's been a tough week — but its weight isn't too unbalanced despite the stone head attached.

Suddenly a hand lands on top of my bandaged one. Clarke and I both speak our thoughts with a look. She's right, but I'm not giving up that easily. "I only need one of my hands to use this."

"You're confusing a javelin with a spear."

"Look, we're going out there to see what that thing was. Don't you think I should arm myself?"

For once, Finn says something that doesn't give me the ick. "Whatever the name is, she's right. If there's a radio and we can talk to the Ark, we have to get there before anything or anyone else does."

"Finn, the radio might've been fried in the landing."

I look up only to observe their staring match. Finn's acting like his long-lost puppy is on that cargo pod or whatever it is. Clarke's not used to being wrong.