SOLDIER; the 100 (1)

1.32

Chapter thirty-two:
His Sister's Keeper
(Part 4)

As the group ventured deeper into the woods, it felt as though death itself stalked them. First Mbege, then Diggs, and now Roma—her body impaled through the heart, speared to a moss-covered tree. Blood drained from her lifeless form, her pale skin casting a ghostly sheen against the dark bark. Her eyes, vacant and wide, stared blankly at the ground as her limbs dangled limply, suspended above the forest floor.

"They're playing with us," Finn muttered, scanning the forest with wide, anxious eyes. Vivienne quickly looked away from Roma's lifeless body, the sight too much to bear, but Bellamy stood frozen, his sorrowful gaze fixed on the girl's pale form.

Gently, he reached out, his rough fingers brushing over Roma's eyelids, closing them for her final rest. His voice broke with guilt. "She only came because of me," he confessed, the weight of responsibility for her death crashing down on him.

"They can kill us whenever they want," Finn muttered, eyes darting around as he kept scanning their surroundings, tension thick in the air. Beside him, Jasper panted heavily, his face bloodied and scabbed from their ordeal, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

"Then they should GET IT OVER WITH! " Jasper suddenly screamed, his voice hoarse and raw from exhaustion and fear.

Desperately, Finn and Bellamy rushed over to Jasper, trying to silence him, dreading the attention he was drawing. Then, emerging from the bushes, Vivienne and Monroe spotted the first Grounder reappearing, weapon drawn and ready.

"Bellamy!" Monroe shouted, stopping the boys' struggle. More Grounders came into view, their figures materializing from the shadows as they circled the group, cornering them once more in the desolate woods. Fear tightened Vivienne's chest as she gripped her axe, her eyes wide with terror.

The group instinctively formed a tight circle, their backs pressed together, each facing a different direction, bracing for an inevitable fight. Weapons were drawn, muscles tensed—but the fight never came. Instead, a chilling sound echoed through the woods, bouncing from tree to tree. It was a haunting, familiar noise that sent a shiver down Vivienne's spine. Even the Grounders, who had been poised to strike, froze in place. Then, without a word, they turned and fled, disappearing into the shadows as swiftly as they had appeared, leaving the group bewildered and on edge.

"They're leaving," Bellamy muttered, watching the Grounders scurry off into the trees, their imposing presence suddenly diminished. They no longer seemed so tough, so terrifying.

Jasper wiped sweat from his brow and glanced around nervously. "That horn," he panted. "What does it mean?"

Trepidation churned sourly in Vivienne's stomach, her breathing growing labored as her nostrils flared. Her hands shook uncontrollably, yet she gripped her axe tighter, though deep down she knew it would be useless against what was coming.

"Acid fog," she whispered, her voice quivering. Her teeth ground together, every muscle tense and bracing for the inevitable.

The memory of that night in the dropship flooded back—trapped, waiting for the yellow fog to pass, its deadly fumes snaking through the trees. The scar on her hand throbbed, a constant reminder of that horror. She could almost feel the same dread she'd carried then, not knowing where Charlotte was or if she was even alive. The sound of the horn was a cursed echo of that fear.

"We have to run," Monroe urged, her eyes wide with fear.

Finn shook his head, pulling out a piece of parachute material from the dropship that had been left behind. "There's no time."