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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DARKNESS soon fell over the woodlands, a thin fog creeping over the grassy floor and concealing any footprints left in the mud. Gripping Charlotte's hand tightly, Vivienne kept her close as they followed Finn deeper into the forest, her eyes darting around their surroundings.
"Where are we going, Finn?" Vivienne asked, her voice low but edged with tension. The gnawing anxiety in her stomach suggested Murphy could catch up at any moment, and she didn't trust Finn Collins. She barely knew him, and Clarke's word alone wasn't enough to reassure her, especially with Charlotte's life on the line.
"It's not much further, just trust me," Finn reassured quietly, his long hair falling over his eyes as he led the small group through the thick brush and dense fauna that made Vivienne's skin crawl as it brushed against her trouser legs.
"Charlotte!" Murphy's voice suddenly echoed through the tall trees, making Vivienne whip her head over her shoulder, her heart racing as she scanned the shadows for any sign of him.
"We should run," Clarke suggested, her eyes darting from the gaps between trees to Vivienne and Finn.
"Yeah, that's one way to go," Finn replied, his gaze shifting to the distance behind Clarke. "I like my plan better," he added confidently. With purpose, he crouched down and began clearing a patch of ground, brushing away leaves and dirt to reveal a rusted metal hatch. With a grunt of effort, Finn heaved the hatch open.
"Get in," he instructed the three girls. Vivienne went first, followed by Charlotte, landing on solid ground with a quiet thud. Glancing around, Vivienne took in the small space illuminated by the faint light filtering through the open hatch. But before she could get a good look, Finn closed it firmly behind him, plunging the group back into pitch-black darkness once again.
Untucking one of the few torches from her pack, Clarke illuminated the small room, casting light deeper into its shadows. "What is this place?" she queried, her voice echoing faintly against the metallic walls.
The walls were constructed from sturdy metal panels, bolted together at the seams, with shelves of the same material lining them. These shelves were stocked with an array of supplies, ranging from bandages to children's toys. At the far end of the room, a bunk bed was positioned against the wall, opposite a worn sofa and an old plastic fold-out table adorned with scattered pages and colored pencils. Rations filled the limited kitchen counters, their jars covered in layers of dust and debris, suggesting that this place had seen little recent use.
"For now, it's home," Finn replied softly, joining the girls at the far end of the bunker.
Vivienne wandered over to a cobweb-covered dining table, barely large enough for four people, and spotted a collection of photos. With gentle fingers, cautious of their fragility, she picked one up and blew the dust away. The picture revealed a clear image of a perfect nuclear family: a mother and father smiling warmly, stood proudly by their son and daughter.
Approaching quietly, Charlotte peered over Vivienne's shoulder, curious about the photo she had found. "Do you think they made it?" she asked timidly, her voice barely audible.
Looking at the scared young girl beside her, Vivienne hesitated. "No," she finally answered, her voice a breathy whisper. "I don't think they did." A heavy silence settled between them as they stared down at the picture together, Vivienne's eyes glossing over with unshed tears, thankful for the darkness that concealed them.
Eventually, swallowing the thick lump in her throat and wiping away the forming tears, Vivienne placed the photo back on the table where she had found it. She turned her whole body toward Charlotte, gently holding the younger girl's chin with one hand. She noticed the dark circles under Charlotte's eyes and the red tear stains on her cheeks. "You should go to bed, you look tired," Vivienne instructed softly, moving her hand to guide Charlotte toward the bottom bunk bed.
Kicking off her boots and shedding her jacket, Charlotte slid comfortably under the duvet. Vivienne felt a weighty pressure on her heart as she tucked the girl in, ensuring the blanket was snugly wrapped around her sides. She pressed her lips softly to Charlotte's forehead, lingering for a moment, taking in the earthy scent of Charlotte's braided hair.
"Thank you," Charlotte murmured as Vivienne pulled away, her eyes already drooping with sleep. Though she had never explicitly said it to Vivienne, Charlotte was truly grateful for her; grateful for someone who always protected her."Goodnight..." Charlotte whispered, her eyes fluttering shut as her breathing grew steady. "...Mum."
Vivienne's entire body stiffened, still hovering over Charlotte's tired form. She cared deeply for the girl tucked neatly into bed—hell, she even loved her as if Charlotte were her own—but never had Vivienne thought the young girl would see her that way, as her protector, her caregiver. As she tucked Charlotte in and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, Vivienne suddenly saw her own mother in herself, before alcohol had stripped her away.
The weight of Charlotte's whispered word, "Mum," echoed in Vivienne's mind. She lingered a moment longer, watching the rise and fall of Charlotte's chest as sleep claimed her, feeling an overwhelming sense of responsibility and affection. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she stood up and quietly moved away, stirred with all sorts of emotions.
•••
A couple of hours had passed, during which Finn and Clarke sat together on the sofa, sharing their fears and discussing the likelihood that Murphy would kill them for helping Charlotte. Meanwhile, Vivienne leaned against one of the kitchen counters, using her arms for support with her back turned to the pair behind her. She was drowning out their conversations, her thoughts too occupied to relax.
Her fingers lightly tapped against the metal top of the counter, creating a quiet rhythm, while her teeth gnawed at the inside of her mouth, leaving a faint taste of blood.
"Hey," Clarke's gentle voice pulled Vivienne from her trance. She barely acknowledged the other blonde with a glance over her shoulder. "You should clean yourself up, and then I can take a look at your wounds," Clarke said, leaning her back against the counter to face Vivienne. "You don't want them getting infected, trust me."
Vivienne kept her heavy stare fixed on the wall in front of her. Her voice broke as she responded. "I'll be fine. It's just a couple of cuts and bruises."
"Still, you took quite a beating," the ever-persistent blonde insisted. "Running in after Murphy like that. It was brave but stupid."
Vivienne shrugged. "No one else was trying to help," she spat, her words dripping with accusation.
Clarke sighed, standing up straight and pushing herself off the counter. "I get that you're mad," she started, speaking quietly enough to keep the conversation between them.
"Mad?" Vivienne laughed humorlessly, catching the attention of Finn, who suddenly stood, his gaze locked on the two blondes. "I'm not mad. I am... I'm terrified," her voice wavered, her breath catching in her throat. "They almost killed Murphy because of you, Clarke," she spat.
"Vivienne," Finn stepped forward, speaking sharply, ready to defend Clarke.
Ignoring him, Vivienne kept her pained eyes on Clarke. "And now, Murphy's trying to kill the one person I have left, the only thing that matters to me," she said, her voice raising and, unknowingly, waking Charlotte who had been soundly sleeping.
Silence fell between the three teenagers, stuck in the bunker for the night. Then, Vivienne's lip began to quiver, and a lonely tear strayed down her cheek. "I can't lose her..." she whispered, her tone suddenly weak. "I just can't."
