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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UPON returning to camp, Vivienne strode in, shoving past the crowd gathered around Bellamy, Clarke, and Finn—everyone eager to know what had transpired. Her eyes darkened as she approached the trio, anger surging through her veins and burning her flesh. Her chest heaved with each breath, nostrils flaring, and teeth grinding as her heavy glare focused on the back of Bellamy's head.
"Vivienne..." Clarke trailed off, noticing the unrecognizable glint in Vivienne's eyes, unfamiliar with the girl striding before her. Bellamy, unaware of her arrival, turned to face her, his eyes softening as a wave of guilt crashed over him.
"Viv—" His words were abruptly cut off as Vivienne's right fist connected with his face, her knuckles cracking against his tensed cheekbone. She didn't even flinch. As Bellamy stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden hostility, Vivienne grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, yanking him up until they were eye-to-eye.
"Screw you!" she yelled, her voice dangerously deep, before her fist connected with his face once more. Bellamy's body went limp, collapsing onto the dirt with a thud. Fueled by a surge of strength she had never felt before, Vivienne kicked him in the chest, flipping him onto his back. She straddled his waist, her fists alternately pummeling his face, landing brutal blows to his nose. Her hands grew slick with blood, the metallic scent heavy in the air around her.
"You're a coward!" Vivienne screamed, her voice raw with rage as she felt Bellamy's nose shatter beneath the force of her knuckles. Blood erupted down his face, staining the dirt beneath him.
"Vivienne!" Clarke had been calling her name since the first hit, but Vivienne was oblivious to the world around her. In that moment, all that mattered was her and Bellamy. Consumed by rage and a thirst for revenge, Vivienne was driven to violence, indifferent to the consequences. She was out for blood.
Suddenly, hands gripped her arms, yanking her away from Bellamy with a brutal force. Vivienne kicked and screamed, her anguish echoing through the forest like a banshee haunting the trees.
"Vivienne, stop!" Finn commanded, gripping her arm tightly as Jasper fought to restrain the other. "Stop it!"
"You're a coward!" Vivienne repeated, her eyes welling up once again. Finally, she ceased her struggle and was released, standing on her own as Octavia and Clarke helped Bellamy regain his composure. "You're a coward, Bellamy," she spat, her voice deep and hollow, "You're a coward and nothing more!"
The crowd surrounding them stared in stunned horror. Blood dripped from Bellamy, staining the front of his shirt as he leaned against his sister for support, unable to stand on his own. Vivienne, her eyes locked in a furious glare at him, ignored the blood staining her skin, unable to distinguish whether it was hers, Murphy's, or Bellamy's anymore.
Forcing Finn aside, Vivienne spun on her heel and ignored the judgmental eyes that tracked her as she marched away from the crowd, heading for the dropship, determined not to shed a single tear until she was alone inside.
Meanwhile, snickers and whispers circulated among some of the bystanders. Bellamy's eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd, straining to catch their murmured comments.
"Crazy bitch," Connor muttered to Myles, who stood beside him. The two exchanged a careless laugh.
"What?!" Bellamy stormed over to them, his steps forced and unsteady despite his dazed head and blurry vision. "What did you just call her?!" he roared, spitting in Connor's face as he grabbed him by the collar of his jacket. Connor stumbled, his heart racing as Bellamy's grip tightened
Glancing back at Myles for support and receiving none, Connor lifted his chin, though his voice trembled. "Exactly what she is. Crazy!" he retorted defiantly, refusing to let Bellamy's grip intimidate him.
Suddenly, Bellamy's right fist smashed into the side of Connor's face, sending him sprawling into the soft dirt with a thud. Connor lay there, a pathetic figure against the ground, while Bellamy's eyes remained unyielding and cold, glaring down at him.
Bellamy glanced around at the crowd, his stability wavering as his legs threatened to give out. "Show's over!" he declared, his voice slurring slightly. Octavia rushed to his side, with Clarke quickly following to assess his injuries.
•••
UNABLE to sleep, haunted by the image of Charlotte stepping off the cliff, Vivienne sat hunched over by the fire. Tears silently traced down her cheeks, dripping onto the toes of her filthy boots as she stifled her sobs, careful not to wake anyone else.
Brushing her hands down her trousers, Clarke exited the dropship, having just finished examining Bellamy's nose. It was shattered, but she assured him it would heal in a few weeks.
She spotted the other blonde sitting alone by the dying fire and cautiously made her way toward her, approaching Vivienne like she was a wild animal that could snap at any moment. And in some ways, she was. Earlier, Vivienne Kane had been ready to tear Bellamy's head off, her hands had itched to drive a knife into Murphy's gut, and a part of her even wanted to follow Charlotte off that cliff.
"You should get some rest," Clarke said softly, standing behind Vivienne. Her voice was gentle, but the concern etched into her features was impossible to miss as she tilted her head, trying to gauge the girl's state of mind.
"You're the last person I'm taking advice from right now, Clarke," Vivienne snapped, keeping her voice hushed though her words laced with venom as they broke the silence of the night.
Sighing, Clarke hesitated before sitting down beside Vivienne, though she kept a respectful distance. "I'm sorry, okay?" she said softly, her voice wavering as her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I never wanted it to go that far." The memory of Charlotte weighed heavily on her, pleading for forgiveness in every word.
Suddenly, Vivienne whipped her head toward Clarke, her bloodshot eyes glistening with a fresh wave of tears. "What did you think would happen?" she seethed, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. "Did you honestly believe it wouldn't end like this?" Her brows knitted together, each word dripping with bitterness.
"I didn't know," Clarke's voice cracked as tears began to spill down her cheeks, each drop a quiet admission of guilt.
"I did!" Vivienne's voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "All you had to do was trust me, but you didn't," she continued, her gaze locked onto Clarke's, heartbreak mingling with the threat in her tone. "And look who paid the price."
"I'm sorry," Clarke repeated, her voice trembling under the weight of the guilt crushing her. Vivienne's cold glare pierced through her, the light in her hazel eyes almost extinguished, her voice devoid of any warmth. "Bellamy and I—" Clarke began, but Vivienne cut her off, her voice rising with renewed anger.
"Bellamy and you what?" Vivienne's voice was edged with rage. "Get to call all the shots now? How many more of us are going to die because you two?!"
Faltering under Vivienne's harsh words, Clarke rose to her feet and reluctantly headed towards her tent, recognizing when she was no longer welcome.
Vivienne watched her go, feeling a pang of guilt but remaining steadfast in her anger. Charlotte had been the closest thing to family she had here, and in her eyes, Clarke, Bellamy, and Murphy were the ones to blame for her loss.
