The 99

Chapter Nineteen: Clarke

This. Chapter. Was. A. Pain. I just couldn't "see" it. I hope it doesn't show. This WAS going to be two chapters, but I needed it to be Clarke's perspective and I didn't want to add a Bellamy filler chapter because then it would've dragged. So I had to choose between rushed and dragged. But we're getting towards the climax so building tension and all. I hope this doesn't feel rushed, but I always think what I write is rushed. *sings* I've got a lot goin' onnnn in this chapterrr. Please review!  

The corridors were silent. No shouts reverberated down the throats of them. No pounding feet sounded from around her. It was quiet. Haunted by the approaching shadow of death. Clarke suddenly felt guilty for her surprise over it. This was what I wanted, she reminded herself. Hours had elapsed since she'd left the workroom, taking refuge in vacant areas and avoiding people. She was still in Mecha, but as another hour dragged by with no visible signs of change, Clarke was beginning to wonder if her message had even done anything.

"You're making a huge mistake."

Clarke felt a pang in her chest. No, she didn't doubt what she was doing was the right thing, but she didn't like how she'd left it with Bellamy. Or how he had, for that matter. It anything though, Bellamy probably felt relieved that at least for now, he no longer had to deal with her. Yes she'd saved his life but it was always easier to keep track of one person opposed to two.

Clarke swatted the thought away. Already she was feeling her discouragement gaining momentum, her hopes turning to dust as she skirted down the corridors, carefully, quietly. She was debating to just go back to the workroom, but that in itself was its own risk. She'd left. That was her decision, and she stuck to it as she turned down another corridor.

And stopped.

Clarke blinked.

It took her a minute to process what she was seeing. A line of people-no, a crowd of them-was moving downwards to the Factory Station, like a steady current. Shoulders brushed each others's and for a good minute, Clarke felt confused. Then her eyes roved over the mass, her gaze dropping to the hands clutching an assortment of sentimental belongings-photographs, necklaces, wedding rings, crosses. So many people, lining up...to die.

The realization hit her square in the chest, the force of it almost knocking her over. A sob mounted in her throat, but she didn't let it out. This was what her father had believed their people capable of. Unconditional love, not for the Council or even Earth. It was for each other, for the families they were choosing to leave behind.

You were right, Dad, Clarke thought as she stared at the people, transfixed. But she didn't feel any pride over this. No, the emotion that was steadily growing louder, screaming over all the others, was guilt. I should be with them. It was a fleeting thought, but it became bigger with each passing second. She was the one who had delivered the message. She was the one who had told the Ark its fate. Her father died for it. Why shouldn't she?

Her life had completed its priority. If she died, someone else would live. It could be that simple...

Clarke nearly stepped forward, into the crowd, when something else caught her attention. Guards. And they were escorting someone, led by Marcus Kane. They went against the current of people, pulling along a shorter person, with darker hair swinging behind her.

Mom? Clarke stumbled. What had she done? She was supposed to be on the escape pod with Raven. Had Bellamy-?

No. There had to be another reason. There had to be. Against her better judgment, Clarke walked into the line, keeping her head bowed as she tried to move down it. She felt eyes on her but she wouldn't look up. She wouldn't. She wouldn't. She wouldn't.